The Corruption of Colt Jacson

Chapter Ten

Apparently they're celebrating one of Marc's younger cousins' induction into the family business. Colt wonders if there had been a similar party for Marc when he'd started working for Rodrigo before they had met. He assumes, yes. He also assumes that he's a square sitting in a world of circles, or as Marc would say, vanilla trying to fit in with insert your favorite flavor of ice cream here.

He watches Marc interact with family and friends and knows that he could never come between some of these bonds, especially Marc and Sebastian, especially Marc and Rodrigo. It's obvious that Marc loves his best friend. It's obvious that Marc loves and respects Rodrigo. It's possible that Rodrigo is the only person on the planet to which Marc allows the upper hand.

The more he watches, the more he realizes that any plan he'd had to steer Marc toward working with his dad at the garage and not for his uncle is nothing more than a pipe dream. This is who Marc is.

Colt doesn't fit in here.

And now Colt is wondering if he's too deep with Marc, emotionally speaking, to get out with any semblance of ease. He wonders how he got here in the first place. The thought of not having Marc in his day-to-day life makes him feel sick to his stomach and he can't understand why. He existed just fine without Marc before, he knows he did. Why does it frighten him to do it again?

He hopes the direction of his thoughts is the alcohol speaking and nothing more.

Colt is sitting on one of the plush couches wishing that it would swallow him whole. He feels so out of place. He feels so uncomfortable.

On the up side of things, he's very drunk. Marc swings by now and then to get him to drink and then goes off to talk with the people here again. Even with Marc a few feet away, it's clear that his attention is with Colt. Sometimes their gazes meet and Marc will smile at him. Colt smiles back. When his glass is empty, Marc almost immediately gets him another one.

He's lazily watching Marc and Sebastian tell a story from when they were kids when he feels someone sit down beside him. Colt looks sideways to Rodrigo and tries to sit up a little straighter. These couches weren't made for sitting up straight though, so his attempt only brings him closer to the older man.

Somehow Rodrigo makes sitting in the couch look much more graceful than Colt does.

"This, all of it, it's a lot to take in, I know." Rodrigo says.

Colt shakes his head. "He didn't even tell me I was gonna meet all of you. Also, I'm drunk and I shouldn't be speaking words right now. I shouldn't be here."

Rodrigo looks amused with him. "I have heard that you are a musician."

"Yeah, violin... fiddle, banjo, guitar." Colt says. "I can make most string instruments sound decent enough."

"I love classical music. It is a talent to play violin with any amount of accomplishment."

"I don't know if I'm accomplished, but I know I love to play."

"And you are from Texas? I could guess that with your accent."

"Yeah, the lone star state. Don't mess with Texas. Land of the Alamo and bluebonnets for miles." Colt says sardonically. "I can't place your accent."

"Italia." Rodrigo answers. "My brother and I were born in a city called Amalfi."

"Your brother is Marc's dad."

"Yes. I'm afraid he couldn't make it tonight."

"Because he doesn't support your business anymore, whatever that business is."

Colt takes a moment to revel in the look of surprise on Rodrigo's face. He likes that he caught the man off guard. The moment passes quickly. Colt decides that Rodrigo has too much of a sharp edge of danger for him to want to catch him off guard too often.

"Yes. I see Marco has been speaking about things with you."

That makes Colt laugh for some reason, a genuine smile on his lips as he shakes his head. "As little as possible. Don't worry, your secrets are safe. He doesn't tell me anything." He stares at Marc again and mutters under his breath. "Startin' to think I don't even know him... not even a little bit."

"You are probably right. You don't know Marco." Rodrigo says. "However, he said that he was going to make you, a seemingly straight man, his - and he has done that with startling success."

Colt gets the impression that Rodrigo said that to retaliate for Colt's catching him off guard moments ago. The words make his stomach roil uncomfortably. He was straight, right? Is straight?

No labels. Things are so much easier with no labels.

Rodrigo looks pleased with Colt's obvious reaction as he continues. "To me that speaks volumes for him. To me that means you see something in him that has made you turn your life upside down for him."

"He's a bulldozer." Colt says, thinking about how Marc has infiltrated every inch of his life.

Rodrigo holds his glass of wine out in toast. "He is a lucky man."

"Either that or I'm just a pushover." Like he's always been, afraid of confrontation, afraid of a fight, afraid of causing trouble for everyone but himself.

Colt toasts Rodrigo anyway and drinks the last of what's in his glass. The older man takes the glass from him and rises from the couch. "Stay. I'll have Marco get you another drink."

His proverbial hackles raise at being told to stay. He's too drunk for it to last for long. Colt watches as Rodrigo interrupts Marc's story to pull him aside and speak to him. Marc keeps nodding and glancing over at him. They're obviously talking about him and that makes Colt nervous.

Did he say anything he shouldn't have?

Eventually, Marc saunters over to him and holds out a hand. Colt is almost relieved in thinking they might be going home as Marc helps him get up off of the couch. Instead, Marc continues to hold his hand and kisses him soundly on the lips. It catches Colt off guard so that there's no chance to return the kiss even if he wanted to.

"I wanna dance with you. Let's go."

Marc starts to walk and Colt holds his ground until Marc has to turn and come back to him. "We're in public, Marc. I've been fine with everything at the house... but..."

"You're with me. It's fine, Vanilla. Nobody will cross us here." When he says the word 'us', Marc indicates the gathering of men in the reserved area with them. "You mess with one Fiarri, you mess with all of us."

When Marc starts to walk again, Colt goes with him if only because he's a fish out of water whether he's up here in the reserved section or in the whole of the club itself. He's also too drunk to care overly much. He also doesn't want to cause a scene in front of Marc's family and friends.

They go down a flight of stairs, Colt moving slower than he normally would because stairs and as much whiskey as he's had are an awful mix. Marc holds him steady until they get to the second level dance floor where the floor is glass.

Two of Rodrigo's men follow them down and stand off to the side, watching, or guarding.

The glass floor is disorienting, so much so that he's thankful when Marc's arms wrap around him and pull him close. They begin to sway and move with the music, Colt following Marc's lead. He lets himself feel the music and Marc and for the first time tonight everything melts away and it starts to feel okay.

Music is something he loves, no matter what form it comes in. Dancing is something he enjoys. Marc is someone he likes a lot... except his name isn't Marc. It's Marco.

Colt leans in to speak into Marc's ear. "Why do they all call you Marco?"

"That's my name. I like that you call me Marc though, sorta keeps you apart from everything."

"If you wanted me to be apart from this, why bring me here?"

"Because my uncle was right when he told me that if you and me are gonna get deeper into you and me, you have to know who I am." Marc says into his ear as they continue to sway together. "You have to know what I am."

Bringing Colt here was Rodrigo's idea? That's just great. "What are you? Who are you?"

"I'm not vanilla."

"What does that mean? Are you a criminal?" Colt doesn't want to know the answer to that last question, really. He's suddenly hit by how deep he is with Marc on an emotional level. For a long time he kept telling himself that he could get out if he wanted to as long as he didn't fall in love with him. He isn't so sure he can get out right now. He isn't so sure that he wants to.

"To you, I'm just yours. What I do outside of our house and the garage, it doesn't affect you."

Colt glances at the men watching over them, two men who look like they could throw down in a fight if necessary. Then he looks up to the third floor where he finds Rodrigo standing at the railing, his dark eyes trained on the two of them.

"Hey." Marc says. "Stay with me. It's just you and me."

But it isn't just the two of them and what Marc does could affect him. In some ways it already does, doesn't it? Colt worries his bottom lip through his teeth, trying to decide if he's sober enough to try to explain this to Marc without causing a scene, without it becoming a fight.

Marc stops dancing and places a palm on either side of Colt's face to bring him back to him. Colt meets those brown eyes and Marc grins crookedly at him.

"Nothing's gonna change, Colt. Not for you. Not yet." Marc says. "You just met some new people tonight, people who're important to me. Alright?"

Colt wants it to be that simple. He wants to go back home where things with Marc make more sense. That desire alone makes him nod in agreement. "Alright. Yeah."

Marc's thumbs smooth over Colt's cheekbones. "Mine."

Colt nods and returns the kiss that Marc gives him then. Kissing Marc is as easy as breathing at this point. Were he less inebriated, the public kissing might have spooked him, but right now it's nice and familiar in an ocean of the unfamiliar and Colt clings to it like a life raft, both giving and taking more, turning the kiss into something more than just a kiss.

Marc starts dancing again and Colt slowly starts to move with and against his body. The hold on him never lets up as Marc's lips explore what skin he can reach. Colt is glad to be drunk right now. He feels sexy and wanted and only minimally like he's being ogled by other people for letting another man do this with him in public.

When they go back upstairs, Colt has a new glass of whiskey and Marc doesn't leave his side. He keeps an arm draped over his shoulders or around his waist or he holds his hand. These little things help to keep Colt feeling more steady than he really is on the inside. He continues to sip at his drink. He even takes two or three shots when the group takes them. He laughs at a few of their jokes and finds he's just enjoying observing the group of them and how Marc interacts with them.

They're on their way home when the nausea hits him. "Pull over."

Marc gives him time before getting them the rest of the way home. It's almost sweet the way Marc helps Colt into the house, cleans him up and gets him tucked into bed. Colt thanks him more than once. He's asleep before Marc gets into the bed with him.