The Corruption of Colt Jacson

"Dude, what happened to your hands?"

Colt looks down to his palms still wrapped in bandage and gauze. "Cooking disaster. I can still play. It's fine."

As he hears himself so easily tell the lie Colt is instantly taken back to the practiced lies of his childhood. He remembers rehearsing them with his mom and dad and telling the EMT's or the social workers or his teachers at school -- anyone who would ask after a bruise or a cut or a broken bone. He was always the clumsiest kid around.

Here he is, history repeating itself.

Except it's not, right? Marc isn't as cruel as his dad was. Colt isn't either of his parents.

Sam has been speaking to him and Colt hasn't heard a single word. He's blacked out into his own head space for a moment. He used to do that a lot as a kid and into his teens, even for some time after he left home. This is the first time it's happened in awhile.

He only realizes that Sam was speaking to him when the guy places a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"You with us, Colt? You need to take the night off?" Sam asks.

"No, I'm good. It's just been a long week... a long few weeks, actually." Marc isn't sure that Sam completely buys it or not, but he's thankful when his friend moves on.

People always move on.

"Alright. Well be careful of the hands, eh? No more cooking disasters. Those are the money makers, am I right?"

Colt forces a smile and nods. "Definitely."

The gig goes smooth as it always does. Every member of the band is ridiculously talented. It's really an honor for Colt to get to play with them.

It takes awhile for Colt's heart to get into it tonight though. By the last set, he's finally there and playing his heart out. It's that sweet spot that every musician has where everything is the music and anything else is noise.

They're about three-fourths through the last set when he sees Marc arrive at the pub they're playing. There are two people with Marc, the trio stands at the bar and orders drinks.

As the set goes on, Colt realizes that the two other men are Sebastian and Rodrigo.

The last few days since the accident (was it really an accident?) Marc has been very sweet around Colt. He's doted on him. He's apologized for what happened again and again. They've made out multiple times. Everything has been good and calm.

Seeing Rodrigo and Sebastian, Colt worries that something bad is about to happen again. He tries to tell himself that there's nothing he can do about it right now, but still, he worries.

He continues with the show, thankfully putting himself back in the right mindset when Sam throws to him on the last song and he gets the spotlight. He plays his heart out, hitting every note and feeling really good about it.

It's startling to him to find that he doesn't have that same flying feeling he usually has when a show ends. That bothers him but he doesn't know what's wrong with him and how to fix it. The absence of that natural high feels as if he's lost a part of himself.

To the side of the stage, he puts his instrument away and hefts it onto his back.

He looks over to Marc who grins at him and waves him over. Colt puts on a smile and heads that way. The moment he's close enough, Marc hands him a shot.

"Rodrigo bought us some shots to celebrate your show." He says. "He wanted to come hear you play."

The older man is looking Colt up and down and then nods. "Most impressive, Colt. I quite enjoyed it."

"Thanks." Everyone is holding shots and looking at him. Colt decides not to argue about one shot. Marc knows that he doesn't drink when he's out so maybe he'll stop more from happening. "And thanks for the shot. I'll have just one."

"A toast, to undeniable musical talent." Rodrigo toasts and everyone takes their shots, including Colt.

Colt responds with a token answer that he gives random fans. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Of course, the fiddle is no violin."

"No, it's not. It's a completely different animal. Although anyone with some talent can make a violin rip with a rock band just as well as a fiddle does." Colt only realizes then that he's been drawn into actual conversation with Rodrigo Fiarri.

"Do you have that kind of talent?" Rodrigo asks.

Colt shrugs. "Maybe."

"How modest of you."

Marc bumps Colt's shoulder with his own. "He's got the talent. He's that good, uncle."

Colt feels heat rise into his face that makes him feel like he's blushing. Marc's support means a lot to him in front of Rodrigo, who makes him every kind of uncomfortable.

"I don't doubt it, Marco." Rodrigo turns back to speak with the bartender.

"Hey Colt. Good show, man." Sebastian claps a hand down on Colt's shoulder. "Who ever thought of putting a fiddle with a rock band?"

"Lots of people are doin' it these days. And think back to a lot of the classic power ballads. They're full of stringed instruments." Colt says. "Sam, our lead singer, he's the guy who writes most of our music, he's wanting me to play violin in a song he's workin' on now."

"That's badass." Sebastian says.

Four shots are lined up on the bar and Colt looks over to Marc trying to silently communicate with him. Marc leans over to whisper in his ear. "It's okay. I'll take care of you and get you home."

Colt takes the shot that Rodrigo offers him. Together, the four of them shoot more whiskey and he's relieved when the bartender says it's last call for drinks.

They're out in the parking lot and Marc is guiding Colt toward his sports car with a hand at the small of his back.

"I'm not drunk. I can drive myself home."

"I want you with me." Marc answers before turning back to Sebastian. "Hey, Seb! You'll get Colt's bike home sometime?"

"You bet! Toss me the keys."

"May I speak with Colt for a moment, Marco?"

"Yeah. Give me the keys, Vanilla."

Colt is already worrying over what Rodrigo might have to say to him as he deftly gets his bike keys out of his pocket and hands them to Marc who then proceeds to carry them over to Sebastian.

"Colt, I understand that you saw some things recently that concern you."

Does Marc tell Rodrigo everything? Colt knows that the older man is talking about the drugs. He lifts his shoulders in a light shrug. "It is what it is, I guess."

"Does this mean you're okay with what you saw?"

"No. It means I'm with Marc in spite of it. It means there are more disturbing things than a bag of drugs." Honestly, what had happened after the discovery is what bothers Colt more than the drugs themselves. He isn't sure what that says about him that he's picking bad things out of a sea of bad things.

Rodrigo reaches out to hold onto one of Colt's wrists tightly. Colt only tries to pull his arm away once before the older man lifts his bandaged hand for inspection and Colt lets him. "This was an accident."

Colt has played and replayed the entire moment over and over again in his mind, trying to figure out where he went wrong. A small voice in the back of his mind tells him that he wasn't in the wrong, but an even louder voice comprised of Colt's past memories of trying to explain away other people's anger and violence tells him he'd done something wrong.

"It was an accident." Colt finally agrees.

"You are his world." Rodrigo says. "You are also his weakness. If what you've seen is going to be a problem for you, I suggest you speak up right now. Otherwise, it would be a shame for a talented musician to lose the use of his hands because of an accident."

The way it's worded, it sounds as if Rodrigo is looking out for him. The tenor of it, however, is very much a threat. Colt has heard plenty of them in his lifetime to know the difference.

Colt shakes his head slowly, giving the only answer he can in the moment. "It isn't a problem."

Rodrigo offers him some semblance of a smile and nods. The pad of his thumb glides over the inside of Colt's wrist in a far too intimate gesture before he lets go. "Good. I'm pleased to hear it."

The older man calls Marco back over to him and pulls him aside to have a whispered conversation. Marc glances in his direction and gives Colt a small grin before returning to the conversation with his uncle.

"I guess that went alright?"

Colt is surprised to find Sebastian next to him. He nods at him. "Yeah, it went alright. Have you ever noticed that he's just a little bit scary? And by just a little bit, I obviously mean a lot."

Sebastian laughs. "Yeah, he can be that way. He also takes really good care of his people so long as they're doing right by him. You stick with Marco, you're one of those, you're one of us."

Colt isn't sure that he wants to be one of Rodrigo's people. He just wants to be Marc's and even that's sometimes on the fence. Unfortunately, it looks like the two come as a package deal.

"So what about it?" Sebastian asks. "You gonna stay with Marco? I swear, he's a good guy. What happened with your hands, it isn't his normal way. He's never hurt you before, has he?"

It seems that Marc shares their business with more than just Rodrigo. "No, he hasn't ever hurt me before."

"He's just passionate, you know? Especially about you."

"You don't have to sell him to me. I already like him." Colt says with a grin.

Marc comes back over to him and opens the passenger car door. "Get in, Vanilla. Let's go home."

"I swear, I'm fine drivin' my bike. Two shots doesn't an inebriated Colt make."

"Colt." Rodrigo addresses him. "Let your boyfriend take you home."

Boyfriend? Colt looks at Marc, who's grinning crookedly at him. He slips into the passenger seat and pulls on his seat belt as Marc closes the door. Through the windshield he sees Rodrigo nod approvingly at him even as the word 'boyfriend' plays over and over again in his mind on repeat.

He gets to watch the three men have another quick conversation that he isn't privy to before Marc finally joins him.

**

Colt is standing in the bathroom, brushing his teeth when Marc enters behind him, leaning a shoulder against the door jam and watching Colt's reflection in the mirror.

"My uncle likes you. I'm glad... you know, cause I give a shit about his opinion. I always have."

"He's family." Colt says around his toothbrush.

He can understand caring what family thinks of you. There was a time when Colt really cared about his parent's opinion as well. Sometimes he still does, he wonders what they would think of what he's made of his life so far.

More recently he thinks they would think him a horrible person; no job, living with a man who he kisses and makes out with on the regular. But there was a time when Colt would imagine that they would be proud. Then again, being proud of him isn't in their DNA. Time and distance has softened them around the edges where he's concerned.

"Yeah, he's family."

Leaning over the sink, Colt spits out toothpaste and rinses with a cupped palm of water. "He kind of scares me."

"He can be scary, yeah. Anyone who isn't even a little bit afraid of him is stupid. But since you're mine, you're his too. You're his people."

"Sebastian said the same thing." Colt says. "I like Sebastian. He's nice."

That makes Marc smile and nod. "Yeah, he's good people. I've known him forever... since we were tiny. He's always had my back and I've always had his."

Colt can't imagine having a friendship like that, much less one that's lasted that long.

"My uncle says you're cool with everything."

Yes, Colt had agreed that he didn't have any problems in the moment. How could he have said any differently? As he looks up into the mirror at Marc behind him, he knows that he has make himself be fine with it or put an end to this.

Colt doesn't want to put an end to him and Marc. Everything in this house has Marc's stamp on it to the point that Colt can't imagine it being any other way anymore. He cares about Marc.

He nods at Marc's reflection. "I'm cool with it."

Marc steps forward, arms wrapping around Colt from behind and pulling him back against him. He nuzzles at the spot where Colt's neck and shoulder meet. "I knew you would be. I knew this was meant to be, me and you, from the minute I saw you."

The words are sweet, making a corner of Colt's lips pull into the beginnings of a smile. He stares at their reflection in the mirror as Marc kisses his neck.

"What are you thinking, Vanilla?"

"I'm just admiring the view." Colt says. "Us."

Marc rests his chin on Colt's shoulder, looking at the both of them in the mirror now, together. He grins crookedly. "It's a good view. I wish I could box it up and keep it forever."

Colt picks up his phone from the bathroom counter and lifts it up to get a photo of Marc holding him the way they are right now. It's a good photo. Colt turns his head back to kiss at Marc's cheek and snaps another photo. Marc laughs and Colt's thumb taps the button again to capture that crooked grin for himself.

"Send those to me." Marc says.

It's the good moments like this that make everything else worth it, Colt thinks. It's all worth it for Marc Fiarri when it's just the two of them with nothing between them.