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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 - 8. Chapter 8

It was late when Will got home; the house was dark as he fished his keys out of his pockets and wrestled with the lock, finally letting himself inside and setting his briefcase down in the hall and taking off his jacket.

It was good to be home. The regular trips back and forth from Toronto were going to wear him out, but at least he wasn't working for the representative for Nunavut. Now that would be one hell of a commute.

He sighed tiredly as he moved through the quiet house; it looked like Brody was out, not much of a surprise: if the man didn't have a date, he was probably off looking for one. Will stopped when he noticed the heavy video camera sitting on the kitchen table, the professional kind used by news reporters. He frowned. He recognized it because Avery-Wood's had made a similar model which ran about ten thousand dollars.

Will rubbed his temples as he started up the stairs, was Brody really serious about getting into film? No, it had to be one of his stunts; Brody was usually up to something, and if it wasn't illegal, it should be.

The light was on in his room, and the sounds of the TV playing told Will that Marc was home. He smiled warmly, he liked having to come home to someone. It was a great feeling, that anticipation of a warm smile.

Marc was stretched out on the bed, one arm behind his head and the other loosely holding the remote on his chest. The way he had sprawled had pulled the bottom of his sweatshirt up so that his belly button was showing above his blue jeans. It was such a relaxed image that Will paused and smiled.

"Hey," Marc said, looking up. "How was your trip?"

Will smiled as he loosened his tie and crossed to the bed. "Long," he admitted. "Pearson Airport is ridiculous to get through on a week night."

Marc nodded, still watching the TV as Will kicked off his shoes and climbed up into bed beside him. Marc adjusted to wrap an arm around Will and pull him close while he channel surfed with the other hand; finding a rerun of some cheesy sitcom he settled to watch it.

"I had a good day," Marc said after a moment or two, his fingers idly playing with the collar of Will's shirt. "I got my first assignment."

"Oh?" Will asked, enjoying Marc's closeness, that slightly musky smell of his skin and the coarseness of his five o'clock shadow.

"Yeah, I was told to take some scenic shots of Ottawa and everyone went up to Parliament Hill to take shots of the river."

"Nice," Will murmured. "You can see my office from up there."

"I went the other way, though," Marc said, shifting to be a little more comfortable while drawing Will closer. "I figured since everyone was doing the river, I'd take some of the canal. I got a great picture of the Chateau Laurier."

Will smiled, "You were up on the Mackenzie King Bridge."

"Yeah," Marc said with a smile, "by the Arts Center. It looks nice in there, by the way..."

"Subtle," Will laughed.

Marc grinned again, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Will said with a yawn, he was falling asleep. Thoughts of the day crowded his mind. The Exhibition site, supper with Andrew, and Brody's latest bid to be the porn king of Ottawa, "We'll go for Christmas."

"Cool," Marc said, flipping the channels. It was an annoying habit of his; he hated commercials and used them as a chance to surf around to see what he was missing on the other channels. Typical guy, and Will chuckled.

"You know, sex is usually easier if you take your clothes off," Brody said from the open doorway.

Will strained his head up, and grinned at his friend. "I didn't hear you come in," Will said, adjusting to sit upright.

"Yeah," Brody said with a shrug, "it's my ninja stealth." He leaned on the doorframe, "I was wondering if you were serious about wanting to go hunting."

"I'd like to," Will said cautiously. "Why, what are you planning?"

"Well," Brody said with a grin, "I've rented a cottage out in Arnprior."

"For hunting?" Will asked in confusion.

"Not exactly," Brody said in a mysterious fashion, "but I figured get some use out of the place. Next month good?"

Will thought a moment, "I'm not sure, I can probably get the last week off in November."

Brody nodded, "I'll book us for then, you bringing the boy?" He nodded over to Marc who was sitting quietly still watching TV.

Will glanced up at Marc who shrugged. "I'd like to," he admitted.

Will looked back at Brody, "I think that would be a yes."

Brody nodded, "Full house so far; Lisa and Jeff are coming, and I spoke to Jared earlier..."

"Jared?" Will asked perking up. "He's coming in from Toronto?"

"Yep," Brody replied, folding his arms. "Grabbing all the boys so you can show us your impression of the great white hunter." He held his hands as if he were holding a rifle, sighted in on Marc and jerked like he had fired.

Marc for his part jerked as if he had been shot, and died dramatically, sliding off the bed with a chuckle.

Will folded his arms, "Fine, we'll go. Happy now?"

Brody shrugged and nodded, "Cool, well I'm off to bed."

"Night," Will replied, echoed by Marc who had miraculously recovered from his death scene.

"That's going to be fun," Marc said crossing to close the bedroom door and smiling at Will, who was splayed out across the bed in a state of utter exhaustion. "You look beat."

Will returned the smile sleepily, "Yeah."

Marc offered a smirk and pulled his sweatshirt up and off his head, "How about now?"

Will considered Marc a moment, the definition to his muscles, the worn yellow baseball cap that was tucked up and back on his head so his bangs showed. The gray plaid boxer shorts he was wearing as he slipped off his Levis one leg at a time, hopping with the grimy white athletic socks.

"Help!" Will murmured. "There's a half naked man in my room..."

"No one to hear you scream." Marc suddenly grinned and blushed a little, as he hopped up onto the bed, and on all fours he crawled up and over Will, his smile only inches from Will's.

"No," Will said feigning objecting, "Please don't..."

Marc sat down on Will's stomach and sighed contentedly, "Well, if you're tired..."

Will didn't move, just continued to lie there pinned under Marc, "You know, my boyfriend will be back at any moment, and if he catches you in here..."

"Strange," Marc shot back, "I always heard he was the kind who liked to watch."

Will leaned up and kissed Marc gently, "I love you."

"I love you too." Marc flushed red, a shy smile in those eyes as they looked at Will for approval. He rolled off of Will and stretched out beside him.

"Did I say stop?" Will asked, reaching a hand down to lightly caress Marc's rib cage, the silky smooth skin and the slight bumps where his abs stood out. The natural definition Marc was blessed with made him appear only more masculine.

Will propped his head up on his other arm as he turned to face Marc who was smiling back at him. Marc may have been quiet at times, but he was hardly effeminate.

He had a thin face with large eyes that were offset by his features. Handsome, he wasn't cute. You called kids and kittens cute, maybe the odd teenager. Marc had the look of a Frat boy complete with the I AM CANADIAN hat. Will would have just assumed he was another one of the local boys working on cars and going to hockey games. Except there Marc was lying beside him, letting him run his hand up and down his stomach.

"What?" Marc asked again, "Did I forget deodorant?" He sniffed his armpit and shrugged.

Will chuckled. "You smell fine," he reassured.

"Great," Marc replied fumbling with the buttons of Will's shirt, finally succeeding in tugging it open and allowing him to run his fingers over Will's chest.

"You don't give up do you?" Will said with a shake of his head. "Tiiiiired," he whined, stressing the i.

Marc gave him a cheesy grin as his hands found Will's belt and unbuckled it smoothly, "So you just lay back and relax and..." he grinned, "I'll be thinking of England."

Will blinked, trying to think of something, anything he could say to that statement. His jaw worked a few minutes as he felt Marc succeed in getting his trousers off, and he collapsed back down on the bed too worn out to put up much of a struggle, not that he would even if he could.

Marc grinned as he went down.

* * *

Marc couldn't sleep; he was still adjusting to the move even though they'd been living in Ottawa for nearly a week. He just wasn't used to the quiet and found it a little unsettling. He'd gotten too used to inner city living, to find himself in suburbia was a major adjustment.

He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a tee, grabbing Will's leather jacket he went outside onto the porch for a smoke. The cul-de-sac that Brody's house was on was rather remote from the rest of the town. There was a pub with a large parking lot backing onto the house, but the front was quiet, especially at one in the morning.

Marc found a comfortable spot on the steps and sparked up the cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke. They always helped him relax, and despite Will's occasional jibes that he should quit, they really didn't bother him. Marc shrugged; it was better than some other vices.

Marc flicked his ash as he leaned his head a little to look at Will's Jeep, Brody's car behind it. Marc stared at the familiar looking sports car, and he stood up and walked around the car staring at the classic Impala Brody drove. It was a beautiful car, powerful, and even at rest it looked like it was in motion.

He sighed wondering if he'd ever own a car like that. That was a sobering thought; before he met Will the thought of owning any car was a pipe dream at best. So much had changed by one stuffy Brit and his capacity to believe in a person just because they were a human being.

After breaking up with his ex-girlfriend and Will's offer of a place to stay, the relationship had been something they had both just fallen into. It felt natural, Will wasn't demanding or needy and he went out of his way to do the little things that made Marc feel appreciated. Not bad considering Marc had done all the work to pick up Will in the first place.

There you go, Marc thought with a grin, I can do something right.

And Will was definitely something right; the thought made Marc grin. Sure Will was a little over-protective and Marc tolerated it with a smile and a nod, knowing full well he was going to do his own thing his own way anyway. Will could use a few extra gray hairs in Marc's opinion.

That, though, was the nature of their relationship. Marc flicked the ash from his cigarette as he wandered back to the steps. It always amazed him how much he loved Will. Of all the things he never, ever saw coming, falling in love with a guy had to top that list. Guys were all about sex, and a source for cash when he needed to eat. He did what he had to do for money, but Will had set everything on its head with a raised eyebrow and a few confident words.

Marc didn't describe himself as gay; he'd coined the term 'Will-sexual' and liked it. There was something magnetic about his boyfriend in a way no one else, guy or girl, had ever been before. It had been that magnetism that had made Marc stop and talk to Will on that Toronto night that had started everything.

Yep, Marc had to admit, Will was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He butted out the cigarette and stood up, feeling warm wrapped up in Will's Avery-Woods jacket. He grinned to himself as he went back inside leaving the night to itself.

* * *

He set the camera down and adjusted in his seat and waited till the lights went out before starting the car. He hesitated just long enough to stare at the house one more time before he drove off, his job done for the night.

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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  • Site Administrator

I like the term Will-sexual. I think Andrew would like the term, too.

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