John got to his feet, still angry. "I'm not a lousy looser. You're a lousy..." John wasn't sure what it was that Dave might be that was lousy -- Hell, in his experience everything Dave did to him was great. "You're a lousy friend," John finally said. He was almost to the porch when a breeze buffeted him, plastering his soaking wet pants against the back of his legs and bringing it to John's attention that the back of his shirt and jacket were soaked through as well. A violent shiver tore through his body, but John refused to let Dave know that he was cold.
"Yeah and how many times does a *good* friend let himself get suckered? Trees and islands, and you said your back hurt and now suddenly, coz you're the one losing, you decide you don't want to play."
"Yeah?" John swung around to face Dave. "Well, maybe I did sucker you but at least I'm not a cock tease, Malucci." Then he continued on his way down the porch.
"Oh yeah? What the FUCK do you mean by that?" Dave caught hold of Carter's arm, and let the man's own momentum swing him around until they faced each other.
"You damn good and well know what I mean by *that*. It's what you are, Dave. A cock tease. Cock tease, cock tease, cock tease, cock tease," John taunted.
"Am not." Dave took a step backwards, but forgot he was on his skates, and lurched up against the porch railing.
John stepped closer, practically pinning Dave against the railing. "Cock tease, cock tease, cock tease..."
Dave stayed his ground, watching Carter get closer. "Am not."
Carter was so close Dave could smell his skin, he repeated again. "Am not."
"Are too." John said, his face mere inches from Dave's. "When you make someone think that they're going to get some and then you play virgin, then you're a cock tease. And that's exactly what you did. So, that's what you are. Cock tease, cock tease, cock tease," John taunted again.
"Don't know what you're talkin' about." Carter's body was so close that Dave could feel the heat coming off it in the chill air. "Am not."
John regarded Dave through half-closed eyelids, then he shook his head. "You know what? You're probably right. You don't have any clue what I'm talking about. And you know why, Dave? It's because you're a doofus."
"I'm not stupid. I'm not. You're just a spoiled brat who thinks coz his family shits gold bricks ya better than the rest of the world. Never learnt how ta lose."
"This isn't about losing, Dave. This is about you and me. You leading me on and me being stupid enough to think that you intended to actually do something. But, you know what? One of these days, Malucci, you're going to want to fuck me and I'm just going to tell you to get the Hell away from me, because you're the last man on earth that I'd ever let fuck me now." John tried to step even closer to Dave, but the blade of his skate slipped between the boards on the porch and he found himself falling forward against Dave's body.
Dave automatically reached out to catch Carter as he fell. He grabbed at the waist and held on, his gloved fingers slipping under the layers of jackets and sweater and thermals. Dave stared up at the man he held, he'd somehow lost all his words that meant anything, he shrugged hopelessly.
Then, he finally whispered. "I'm not a tease."
John shivered as Dave touched him, but not from the cold. He looked down and saw Dave staring at him and he closed his eyes before he became lost in those deep pools of chocolate. John wanted Dave so much that it hurt inside, but he was damned if he'd ever let Dave know that.
"Cock tease," John whispered back. "And I'm never going to let you touch me again, no matter how good of a tease you are." But he didn't try to move out of Dave's arms.
Dave dropped his eyes, "Not. Not stupid. Not a tease. Not a lousy friend."
"You're not a lousy friend and you're not stupid," John said. Then he grinned. "But you *are* a cock tease."
Dave gave a glimmer of a smile, then repeated. "Not." And again, "Not."
John pushed his hips forward knowing there was no way that Dave could miss how hard his cock had become. "Do you plan to do something about this?"
Even after all this Dave could feel how hard Carter was through the layers of winter clothing. It felt good, but that was okay, he'd had his whisky. He turned his face up to Carter's. "Make me."
"No." John simply replied. "If you won't do something about it on your own then that proves I'm right and that you're nothing but a cock tease." Even as he said the words, John knew he was a fool. Dave wouldn't do anything. Dave didn't want him, so why did he keep torturing himself by coming on to Dave?
Dave loosed one of his hands from Carter's waist, and reached up to stroke the side of Carter's face. He couldn't think of any words to say, but looked up half expectantly.
John turned his head so that his cheek was being cradled in Dave's hand and he closed his eyes. "Prove it," he whispered. Or let me go, he silently added.
Dave rubbed his thumb across Carter's cheekbone -- feeling the cartilage of the nose, the resilience of the skin, and the roundness under the shut eyelid. "Not."
So...that was it, John thought with an ache in his heart. He reached around Dave's sides and placed his hands on the railing, then pushed off and got his feet firmly back under him. Opening his eyes, John looked down at Dave, wondering just what kind of pleasure Dave derived from torturing him like this. A slow movement of his head and John's face was no longer being branded by Dave's touch. A quick jerk of his leg freed John's skate and he took a step backward.
"Are." And then John turned around to go somewhere. He wasn't sure where -- all he knew was that he needed to get away from Dave before he ended up on his knees in front of the man, begging him.
Dave slumped down. He didn't know what had just happened, but he knew it wasn't good. Carter had walked off somewhere Dave didn't know where -- he did know that he wasn't going to try to walk off the mansion site again -- not after last weekend. Dave reached down to his hip flask, and started for a third slug of whisky, then stopped himself, two outdoors on a cold day was quite enough -- especially if there was some doubt about how he was going to get indoors again.
Today had been supposed to be a fun day with friends skating and if -- anything more -- had happened, that was a bonus and now it was somehow all ruined. Dave shook his head, he wasn't going to let it be ruined, he wasn't. He called out. "Carter race you to the other end of the lake." Then he made his way down to the shore to see if Cater would appear.
John sat in the driver's seat of the Jeep, the thermos of hot cocoa in his hand. He heard Dave call out to him and he was tempted to go back out there, but he didn't, he couln't. At one point there he had thought that Dave would kiss him. John touched his lips with a gloved finger, remembering the way Dave's lips had felt against his before and knowing that it could have felt just as good this time. What was there about him that was so repulsive that Dave didn't want him any more? Was it going to be his destiny in life to fall in love with people who were only capable of being his friends? First Anna and now Dave. John laughed a little to himself as he thought about how a bisexual man should have even more chances for love than a guy who was either gay or straight, but instead he just kept striking out. Over and over again. Falling in love with the wrong people.
Another violent shiver went through his body and John knew he had to get some warm liquids in his body and then go and change. And going to the house meant that he needed to get out of his skates, which meant doing to the gazebo to get his boots. John twisted the top off the thermos, then poured the cocoa into a cup and drank it down. After replacing the lid he headed back to the gazebo, hoping that Dave was well on his way to the other end of the lake.
Dave saw Carter walking toward him, and waved. "Over here. No cheating. No running. No pretending. Just racing?" He smiled, hoping that that would sound good
"In a bit. I need to go change. Your trick with that last snowball got the back of my shirt completely soaked. I'll be right back, though," John said, not wanting to ruin Dave's day any further. "There's some hot cocoa in a thermos in the Jeep if you'd like some of that." John sat down in one of the gazebo openings and started to unlace his skates.
Dave grinned, Carter seemed to be sounding more normal anyway. "Well what dya expect after lying 'bout your back like that? Ohhhhh ooooohhhhhhh it hurts. I can't walk. Ohhhhhhh."
John wasn't in the mood to keep Dave's day *that* happy. "Oh go fuck a duck, Malucci." One skate off, then the other. John set them aside and reached for his boots.
"You gonna take me back to the station?"
"Now? You want to go *now*?" John asked.
"You're gettin' ready to go, aren't ya?"
"I told you that I was going to the house to change into dry clothes and coming right back. But, you know what? If you want me to take you back now, then fine, I will. Whatever the fuck you want, Malucci, you'll get. Always and forever." John shoved his foot into the boot and started to lace it up. "God forbid that someone should tell Dave Malucci 'no' when he wants something, but don't ever expect anything in return from him."
"You're coming back? This isn't another of your sucker punches? See how many times ya can trick me today?"
John shoved on his other boot and rolled his eyes. "You don't trust me to come back?"
"Will you?"
John got to his feet. "The keys are in the Jeep and the Jeep is staying here. I've already told you what I'm going to do. You can either trust me or not. I really don't care anymore."
Dave shrugged. "Whatever." He hadn't known the Jeep was going to stay here, that made it a bit better.
John stared long and hard at Dave, then shook his head and headed through the gazebo and down the pier. Maybe there was just something cursed about the estate? Whenever Dave was there things went shitty fairly quickly. John quickly walked down the path to the house. He was to the kitchen door when he realized that without the keys, he couldn't get inside.
John pounded his fist against the door. "Damn, damn, damn." Okay, there had to be other options. Going in through a window was out of the question because of the security system. Going back and getting the keys wouldn't work because then Dave would accuse him of plotting to strand him on their or something. John leaned against the brick wall, it was warm from the sun and felt good. But the warmth only made him shiver harder. His fault, Dave had said, because he was on his back on the ice. Not Dave's fault for putting a Goddamn snowball down his back when he was expecting a kiss. No sir, not Dave Malucci. He'd never be at fault.
Think, John, think, he told himself. And then he remembered that sometimes they kept shirts in the summerhouse to use as coverups after swimming. Maybe some were still there?
John headed back down the path and around to the front of the summerhouse, not even trying to look for Dave. All he cared about was getting out of his wet shirt. The wet pants would have to wait until later, but if he were lucky then the shirt could be taken care of now.
Dave skated over to the island after Carter left. When he'd thought of today last week, he'd imagined skating for hours, and maybe making a fire somewhere and boiling up some snow, and sure, snowball fights, and maybe some snow wrestling. He hadn't imagined Carter getting angry over nothing, and playing stupid sucker tricks making him fall over submerged trees -- or pretending his back was hurting for kicks. Well, he could still do some of it, even without Carter here -- and that took half the fun away. Somewhat defiantly Dave looked around the little island for dead foliage, and pulled the matches he'd brought out of his pocket. He cleared a patch that was away from anything that could be set alight, and enabled him to keep an eye on the Jeep, in case it suddenly moved and set to work.
It was harder than it looked -- much harder. but eventually Dave managed to set some small twigs alight, and then put some slightly larger ones on. He warmed his hands over the meagre blaze in satisfaction.
As John opened the door to enter the summerhouse he caught a glimpse of something glowing through the slight foliage on the island. A fire? John turned around and looked for Dave, but didn't see him. Was he the one responsible for the fire or had someone managed to sneak onto the estate? Security overrode John's personal discomfort and he pulled the door closed, then walked across the ice to the island and made his way to where the fire had been set.
John came to a stop a few feet away from Dave. "If you were cold you could have gone and sat in the Jeep."
Dave looked up at Carter, he'd come back after all. "Thought it'd be fun to build one. Brought some matches with me."
"Well, as long as you're having fun, that's all that matters, isn't it?" Now that he knew the source of the fire, there was no need to remain cold. John turned to go back to the summerhouse and the possibility of finding a dry shirt there.
Carter's words and turning back felt like a slap across the face to Dave. He tried again. "You must know where there's dry twigs around here."
John stopped and turned around. "It's a fucking forest, Dave. There are dry twigs all over the place. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm still trying to find something dry to put on." He turned on his heel and started back down the path.
Somehow Carter had managed to take all the pleasure and accomplishment out of the little fire. Dave looked at Carter's retreating form, and the orange flames and back again. At least with the fire he knew what would happen if he added things to it. Dry wood and it would get bigger and hotter. Snow or damp wood or nothing, and it would go out. Carter didn't have the same predictability. Dave could never tell what Carter was going to do next. But it was fully evident that Carter wasn't interested in having Dave follow him. Dave turned back to the fire and added another twig.
John entered the dimly lit summerhouse and flipped on the light switch. The wicker furniture was covered for the winter, but John knew the shirts -- if there were any in the house, would be in the closet, so he headed there. Why did Dave have to be so...aggravating? All John had wanted was for them to have a nice day of ice-skating. Okay, that wasn't quite true. He had considered it a 'date', a chance to get to know Dave better. So, what had he found out about Dave? That the man was a cock tease, that's what. John had only received more confirmation that the earlier weekend had been a fluke of some sort and the incredible sex would never ever happen again. All Dave cared about was playing games.
John jerked open the closet door, but it was empty. Dave didn't give a fuck that he was soaking wet and cold, wouldn't even acknowledge his own share of the blame in that. Who the Hell had made sure a near frozen Dave was brought into a warm house and watched over? And could Dave return even one bit of the same consideration? Hell no.
And the closet was bare. No shirts. Shit.
John turned off the light as he left the house. He needed his keys, but he wasn't going to take them without going to reassure Dave that he wasn't being stranded. As if John had ever threatened to strand Dave there.
When John returned to the fire, it was a little bigger and the warmth felt good. Very good. "Dave, I have to take the keys to the Jeep so I can get in the house. You will not be stranded out here, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for telling me. " Dave smiled up at Carter -- he'd read about stuff like this in manuals and the like, but never really tried it out before, not in a snowy forest anyway-- he held a proud achievement of some lukewarm water in a leaf toward Carter. "Want some hot water? I just made it."
John saw the look of hopeful pride on Dave's face and a thousand images flashed before his eyes -- all of them involving him waiting for some kind of recognition from his father -- even just a 'job well done, son' would have done most times, but he never got that. John took a step closer to the fire. "I think it will leak out when I take it from you," John said, even though the thought of something warm or hot to drink did sound appealing as he was getting colder.
"It's okay. You just gotta handle it carefully." Dave stood up and carefully moved toward Carter. "Here."
"I'll just spill it," John protested even as he took another step toward Dave and the fire.
"No, you won't." Even as Dave spoke the water sloshed dangerously. "Open your mouth and bend down a bit."
John did as he was told, but not before making sure that he could see both of Dave's hands and that they weren't holding any snowballs. He'd been cruelly tricked once and he wouldn't let that happen again.
Dave triumphantly poured a small trickle of lukewarm water, getting most of it into Carter's mouth. "There. Taste good?" He asked hopefully.
John nodded as he wiped his mouth. "It was warm and I needed something warm. Thanks. I'll be right back." John reluctantly turned away from the fire and it wasn't until his back was facing Dave that John allowed himself to smile over how proud Dave had been about some barely warm water. One day Dave would grow up and there was a part of John that really wanted to be there when that happened.
Dave scrambled through the woods to find more dry twigs to add to the fire. They were getting harder to find, but he wasn't too sure of what else to do. His bruised legs protested under him, as he sat down with another armload. He wondered when Carter would be back, and if he'd still be in a lousy mood.
John went to the Jeep, grabbed his keys, then jogged to the house, letting himself back inside. His stomach growled at him when he looked in the direction of the refrigerator and he thought about stopping right then and fixing something for him and Dave to eat. But he was cold and thought it would be better to get out of the wet clothes and into dry ones as fast as possible. John hurried upstairs to his room, unzipping his jacket as he went. Once there, he dropped the sodden jacket and shirt into the tub, then undid his shoes and pulled off his wet pants and damp boxers, also dumping them into the tub. It surprised him that his socks were still dry, so he decided to keep them on.
John grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, followed by a sweatshirt. He sat on the bed and put his boots back on, then grabbed another jacket from his closet and rushed to the kitchen. There was a picnic basket in the pantry and John grabbed that and tossed a few things into it: hot dogs, buns, mustard, catsup and some chocolate chip cookies made the night before. Oh, and he spied graham crackers and a bag of marshmallows in the pantry. He took those and some chocolate bars as well so he and Dave could make some S'mores if they wished.
John was almost out the door when he thought that it would be nice to have a blanket to sit on, another barrier against the cold. So he went to the upstairs linen closet and grabbed a woolen one with a tight weave, then he left the house. On his way back to the island he stopped by the Jeep again and picked up the thermos before making his way back to Dave and the fire.