Marton. Treading Water
Dec. 21st, 2004 11:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
palace_martonMarton wiped his face and then kicked out, heading for the side of the pool. He grabbed on to the tile and almost hauled himself out, but then thought better of it and rested his chin on his folded arms instead, watching his eldest son’s laughing departure. You’ll keep, he thought with wry amusement.
Christian stopped on the other side of the glass doors and blew him a cheeky kiss, Marton responding with a raised middle finger. Everything was getting back to normal, he thought. Normal? Well, as normal as things were ever going to be. He turned around, keeping one hand on the side, shedding his pajama bottoms with the other. He intended to swim this morning anyway, might as well be now, seeing how he was already wet.
Pushing off from the side, he headed for the centre and began a series of laps, cutting strongly through the water with powerful strokes and enjoying the simple physical activity. He did this every day, either in the morning or, if he was busy, last thing at night. It had two great advantages over any other form of planned exercise. First was the work out itself and second, a chance to think, unhindered and undisturbed, as his body found the rhythm freeing his mind to wander.
Normal? He kept returning to the word. The routine was slowly re-establishing itself certainly, Lucius was hunting for a new valet already which was sad but necessary, the situation with Jake was under control and being ‘handled’ by Harry, amongst others, whom he trusted absolutely and Christian seemed back to his old self. It was all good news, yet he still felt off-kilter. He slowed his stroke and turned, floating on his back and staring at the ceiling with its random pattern of hidden downlights, an artificial starry night sky. He knew what it was, of course he did. Marton was nothing if not self-aware. Will.
Even thinking his name made Marton’s cock twitch and a wry, self-deprecating smile twisted the corner of his lips. How the Hell had it happened? How could something like this come out of left field and tangle his gut into a coil of lust the way it had? Marton didn’t like surprises and liked even less not knowing from whence they came. He turned back over and headed for the side, pulling himself out of the water and padding across to the lockers for a towel. One minute he had a friendly, affectionate relationship with his son’s best friend, a young man the entire family had taken under it’s wing, and the next?
The next he was confronted with a tall, lean and dangerously attractive man who made his balls tighten and his cock ache. And now they were fucking. Marton sighed as he wiped his face free of moisture and he wrapped the towel around his waist and took a seat on one of the lounges in the bay window.
He was two different people, that’s what it was. By day and in the company of others, he was still the young man Marton held in such high esteem, Christian’s good and loyal friend. But at night, when the halls were quiet and still, Marton’s bedroom door would open and . . .
Not that he was complaining. It seemed to be working just fine this way. Marton found it convenient and Will? Well, apparently he didn’t mind it either. In fact, Marton thought, sliding his long legs up onto the lounge and lying back to watch the sun come up, it had been Will’s idea, hadn’t it? Or at least, that’s how it had worked out. He wiped a hand across his face. Maybe it was just the fact that it wasn’t as open as he was used to? Perhaps that was what niggled at him sometimes? But it worked, so . . .
Absently, Marton considered getting himself another cigarette. Then he remembered. Damnit! Bloody Christian! His case was in the pocket of his pajamas and the cigarettes would be ruined! I’ll owe you for that, you little sod.
Ah well, no more time for idle musing. He got up and headed for the house, picking up his pajamas on the way past and dropping the soaking bundle in the hamper by the door, his case with it’s ruined contents clutched in his hand.
Christian stopped on the other side of the glass doors and blew him a cheeky kiss, Marton responding with a raised middle finger. Everything was getting back to normal, he thought. Normal? Well, as normal as things were ever going to be. He turned around, keeping one hand on the side, shedding his pajama bottoms with the other. He intended to swim this morning anyway, might as well be now, seeing how he was already wet.
Pushing off from the side, he headed for the centre and began a series of laps, cutting strongly through the water with powerful strokes and enjoying the simple physical activity. He did this every day, either in the morning or, if he was busy, last thing at night. It had two great advantages over any other form of planned exercise. First was the work out itself and second, a chance to think, unhindered and undisturbed, as his body found the rhythm freeing his mind to wander.
Normal? He kept returning to the word. The routine was slowly re-establishing itself certainly, Lucius was hunting for a new valet already which was sad but necessary, the situation with Jake was under control and being ‘handled’ by Harry, amongst others, whom he trusted absolutely and Christian seemed back to his old self. It was all good news, yet he still felt off-kilter. He slowed his stroke and turned, floating on his back and staring at the ceiling with its random pattern of hidden downlights, an artificial starry night sky. He knew what it was, of course he did. Marton was nothing if not self-aware. Will.
Even thinking his name made Marton’s cock twitch and a wry, self-deprecating smile twisted the corner of his lips. How the Hell had it happened? How could something like this come out of left field and tangle his gut into a coil of lust the way it had? Marton didn’t like surprises and liked even less not knowing from whence they came. He turned back over and headed for the side, pulling himself out of the water and padding across to the lockers for a towel. One minute he had a friendly, affectionate relationship with his son’s best friend, a young man the entire family had taken under it’s wing, and the next?
The next he was confronted with a tall, lean and dangerously attractive man who made his balls tighten and his cock ache. And now they were fucking. Marton sighed as he wiped his face free of moisture and he wrapped the towel around his waist and took a seat on one of the lounges in the bay window.
He was two different people, that’s what it was. By day and in the company of others, he was still the young man Marton held in such high esteem, Christian’s good and loyal friend. But at night, when the halls were quiet and still, Marton’s bedroom door would open and . . .
Not that he was complaining. It seemed to be working just fine this way. Marton found it convenient and Will? Well, apparently he didn’t mind it either. In fact, Marton thought, sliding his long legs up onto the lounge and lying back to watch the sun come up, it had been Will’s idea, hadn’t it? Or at least, that’s how it had worked out. He wiped a hand across his face. Maybe it was just the fact that it wasn’t as open as he was used to? Perhaps that was what niggled at him sometimes? But it worked, so . . .
Absently, Marton considered getting himself another cigarette. Then he remembered. Damnit! Bloody Christian! His case was in the pocket of his pajamas and the cigarettes would be ruined! I’ll owe you for that, you little sod.
Ah well, no more time for idle musing. He got up and headed for the house, picking up his pajamas on the way past and dropping the soaking bundle in the hamper by the door, his case with it’s ruined contents clutched in his hand.
