The Corruption of Colt Jackson Ch. 09
Colt steps back and picks up his half full tumbler of whiskey off of a table to take another sip while he inspects his work. When he'd first opened the can of paint four days ago, he'd been skeptical of the blue-gray color that Marc had picked out. Now that it's going up on the walls, he thinks he likes it. It's definitely going to take more than one coat though.
He grabs his phone and turns around to take a selfie with an overly enthusiastic smile on his face and the first bit of paint on the wall behind him. Then he sends it to Marc and takes another drink of his whiskey before going to the kitchen to top off his glass again.
He's just put the cap back on the bottle when his phone chimes with the notification Marc had changed on his phone: 'sexy mother-fucker' by Prince.
Marc: Heck yeah, looking good. The paint looks alright too.
Colt grins and sips at the whiskey as he goes back to the living room. Aside from being jobless, things have been good the last four days. Colt sees Marc off in the morning, looks for a job during the day and then comes home and cleans, does laundry and makes dinner for Marc in the evenings. Marc has been home every night. Every night they fool around. Sometimes they drink. Sometimes they smoke a joint. Every night Colt falls asleep in Marc's arms.
It's becoming a routine. Well, it's routine except that today is the first day that Colt hasn't even tried to look for another job. He can't say why he decided to take Marc's advice and give it a rest today, but he did. Being home all day, he decided it would be fine to drink some whiskey, so he has. The whiskey is so connected to Marc at this point that it feels like Marc is here with him.
In spite of the moments of uncertainty where Marc is concerned, Colt is happy right now. He's happy where his relationship is concerned. That's what he and Marc have; a relationship. Marc keeps telling him that they don't have to label anything beyond their belonging to each other. Colt is good with that, he thinks. He's good with it because it keeps him from overthinking things. When he overthinks he starts to question everything down to the smallest detail.
He turns the music up and goes back to painting, occasionally pausing for a drink, occasionally dancing around the living room a bit, occasionally singing lyrics at the top of his lungs.
Yeah, he's happy.
The living room is almost completely painted with a first coat when the text comes in with Marc's sexy motherfucker ringtone.
Marc: Get ready. I'm taking you out tonight.
Colt: Like... out of the house? Like a date?
Marc: Yep. Nowhere too fancy. I just wanna take you out and show you off.
Colt: Marc, I don't think that's a good idea.
Marc: Let me be brave for you.
The words remind Colt of the first time he'd gone out on a limb and invited Marc to his place. Still, he's already feeling really good with the whiskey he's drunk today and he doesn't like going out in public unless he's sober. Marc knows this about him.
Colt: I've been drinking your whiskey today.
Marc: I know. I promise to take care of you. Get ready.
Get ready. Colt plugs his phone in to charge and hurries to take a quick shower. He has to scrape paint off of his skin in a few places. After his shower he trims his beard, adds a bit of mouse to his hair just to tame the waves, puts on cologne and then chooses jeans, boots and a button up plaid shirt. He's just buttoning the shirt up when he hears Marc's car.
He steps out into the living room just as Marc enters the house. Marc looks him up and down and grins. He hunts down Colt's latest glass of whiskey, only half drunk, and hands it to him along with a kiss. "Finish that while I get ready."
Colt makes sure Emmitt is fed while he nurses what's left of his whiskey. Something occurs to him while he's drinking. Marc had said he knew that Colt had been drinking. How?
The timing is perfect. Colt drinks the last of his drink as Marc enters the room looking great in a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt that shows off every muscle.
"Marc," He's about to mention the whiskey, really he is, but he gets side tracked as Marc comes in close and kisses him. "You look good."
"So do you." They kiss again.
"The whiskey..."
"You're gonna be fine. You're with me. No one's gonna touch you, no one's gonna say anything to you if you're with me."
That isn't what he was going to say but those are also some of his concerns. Marc leads him outside and lets Colt into the passenger seat of his car before going around to the driver's side. This is Colt's first time in Marc's car. It's clean as if it's taken to professionals regularly. When Marc starts the engine, the same song that had last been playing inside the house picks up where Colt had left off.
Again, he wonders how?
Marc takes them to a part of town that Colt hasn't been to. The club they park at isn't a club that caters to the Drunk Wizard's demographic so Colt has never been here. Honestly, he isn't even sure that he would have known it was a club if they weren't currently parked in its parking lot. It's a large and weathered looking warehouse type building with a fluorescent sign out front that blinks the word Amnesia in red then gold then red again.
"I've never heard of this place." Colt says.
Marc laughs a bit and shakes his head. "I'd guess not, Vanilla. Amnesia's not exactly your kind of place. But I think we'll have fun."
Colt wonders what Marc means, that it's not his kind of place. He stays in the passenger seat until Marc comes around to open his door because he's not sure if he wants to get out of the car just yet. The other man has to reach in and take Colt's hand to pull him out of the car.
When Colt starts to pull his hand out of Marc's since they're in public, Marc holds on tighter and looks back at him. "You're with me. Remember? You go in with me and you're with me. No one's gonna judge you in here, not if we make it clear who you belong to."
The warning is enough to make Colt relax his hand in Marc's then, and even go so far as to hold onto Marc's hand in return.
They bypass the line to get in and the bouncer just nods at Marc and lets him inside. The electronica music is loud and thumping and Colt is shrouded in darkness once they're inside. While the outside of the warehouse could use repairs, the inside is a different story. As his eyes adjust, he notices a large bar in the center of the room. People are crowded around it. There's seating around the edges of the room and large dance floors. Looking up, Colt can see that the place is massive and multilevel. There are people walking and dancing above him on a glass floor. He can see up girl's skirts and quickly looks away.
Marc leads him up some stairs and pauses at a mini bar. The tender instantly leaves the other customers and gets Marc's order of a tall whiskey and a Corona. Marc hands the whiskey to Colt and keeps the beer for himself.
Still hand-in-hand, Colt follows Marc past a couple practically having sex on a couch and toward more stairs. At the third and top level, Marc moves a rope aside of a reserved section where there are comfortable couches and low tables. There are a few people already here and the music is a little quieter.
Marc leans over to speak into his ear as he points to each person. "Those are my cousins, Sammy and Juan. That's an old family friend, Carlos. There's-"
"Marco!"
When Marc lets go of his hand to embrace another man, Colt's hand feels cold. He'd been holding onto Marc tightly and now he's at a loss. He can't really hear the conversation between the two men, but after a moment, the newcomer comes over to him.
"So this is him, huh? Colt Jackson?" The man offers him a hand. "Finally get to meet the person who's had all of Marco's attention lately. I'm his best and only friend, Sebastian."
Sebastian is tall and slim, with long hair and sharp features. Colt shakes his hand, the reality that he's meeting some of Marc's family and friends right now, with no warning, settling in. It has never occurred to him that Marc might be telling other people about him... about them together.
"Hi, I'm... Colt, of course." He says, putting on a similar smile that he wears when at a Drunk Wizards show and talking to fans. "It's nice to meet you."
"He's not my only friend. Just the oldest and best. He's also a goofball." A faux punching match breaks out between the two men and Colt just watches.
Marc and Sebastian have another mostly private conversation and Colt lets himself look around. Marc's cousins are looking over at him and whispering to one another. So is the old family friend and whoever he's sitting with along with others gathered here.
Colt instinctively reaches out for Marc and hooks an index finger in one of his belt loops since both of Marc's hands are occupied. If he's with Marc, if it's clear who he belongs to, then it will be okay. That's what Marc had said.
He takes a step closer to Marc just as more people arrive into the reserved area, all of them men. One of the men stops in front of him. The man is tall and well built, almost of the same build as Marc only with longer limbs. He's wearing a full suit and tie, all of it tailored to his physique. He has dark, thick hair that hangs down to his shoulders and a perfectly trimmed goatee.
Dark eyes look him up and down in a way that makes it seem as if he's already familiar with him before he offers a hand and leans in to speak. Colt feels like the man has just looked inside of him, beyond the surface. "I will assume that you are Colt Jackson."
Colt has to let go of Marc's belt loop and switch his whiskey to his other hand to shake this man's hand. Again, he puts on his fake smile that usually passes in new company. "Yes, sir. You assume right."
The handshake is firm and the man holds onto Colt's hand longer than necessary. "I've heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Jackson. How nice it is to put a face with the name. My nephew is quite enamored with you."
Oh shit. This is Marc's uncle.
Colt tries to pull his hand away again but it would be rude to pull any more than he's pulling. "He's..."
"Marco is my favorite of all of my family. I'm pleased to see him happy." Finally, his hand is let go. "Rodrigo Fiarri. Feel free to call me Rodrigo."
"Rodrigo." Colt says, reaching for Marc again, his hand landing at the small of Marc's back where he pats a few times to try to get Marc's attention away from Sebastian. "It's nice to meet you. You can call me Colt."
"Hey, uncle." Marc and Rodrigo embrace and Rodrigo speaks into his ear. Marc nods at whatever was said to him and the embrace breaks apart. "You met Colt. I told you I'd bring him."
"And you did. Yes, we just met." Rodrigo keeps a hand on Marc's shoulder and squeezes there. "I hope we will see more of him. He's every bit as easy on the eyes as you said he was."
Again, Colt is being looked over like he's a piece of meat by Rodrigo. Colt looks to Marc to see if he notices it. Marc just looks at him and tells him to drink. Colt hesitates only briefly before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip. Rodrigo has the audacity to look pleased with him.
The decision that Colt makes here in this moment is that he doesn't like Rodrigo Fiarri."
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