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Marcus couldn’t wait to go home.
He can see it in his face, the way his eyes light up as he taps away a quick message on his phone before take off. “Well, someone’s excited.” Kevin teased. Marcus looks at him across the aisle before responding, “Yeah, I am. And if you’re less annoying, I’ll treat you to all you can eat kokosboll later.” Kevin only chuckles at that before putting his headphones on. It sounds like a promise.
It was almost midnight when they arrived at Örebro. The snow was steadily falling, covering every surface in white and wet. He was checking the contents of his carry-on when he felt Marcus’ hands on either side of his head, adjusting his blue earmuffs. “There,” he said when he was done. “Now you look like a smurf!” He knows they look ridiculous but he’d rather look like an idiot than lose his ears to frostbite. “Fuck off, Gargamel!” he shoots back. Marcus was still laughing as he places his hands on Kevin’s shoulders and steers him gently to the exit of the airport. The cold seeps through his bones but all parts of them that touched amidst layers of clothing blooms with warmth.
They drove in easy quietude, occasionally interrupted by the soft croon of Swedish folk songs on the radio. He could barely make out the sights in the dark despite the harsh light from tall outdoor post lights on the road. Kevin’s thoughts couldn’t help but wander. This is it, he thinks. The last race of the season is looming ahead of them and with it the reminder that it’s also Marcus’ last F1 race, at least for now. The irony that it will end in Abu Dhabi did not escape him; in the same country he has made his home.
His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed that they have stopped in front of a small brick house with the front porch bathed in christmas lights. He doesn’t understand the sign posted near the door but judging from the large brown paper bags of people coming out, he can fairly guess what it is. He frowns, “You didn’t tell me you have a bakery at home?” Marcus’ amusement was evident in his voice as he replied, “This isn’t home yet but I promised you kokosbolls didn’t I?” The smell wafting from inside was heavenly. This is the one place his trainer wouldn’t want him to visit.
He was still munching on a huge ball of chocolate, relishing in the crunch of dessicated coconut when he was blinded by the camera flash. He let out a string of curse words in Danish nevermind that they were unintelligible but felt himself choke on both the pastry and his words when he saw the fond look on Marcus’ face as he stares at what he’s sure is a very unpleasant photo. The height difference between them becomes more striking as Marcus moves closer to him, his gloved hand catching on the side of his mouth as he brushed crumbs away from his bottom lip. If he felt the ghost of his touch all through the night, then no one else needs to know.
The first few days passed by so quickly they didn’t realize it at all. Their mornings have been occupied by playing ice hockey and tennis while also squeezing in some training session in-between which they badly needed as Marcus’ mom stuffs them with so much good food in the evenings. He’s thankful that the season is almost over or else his trainer might actually kill him. Tonight, however, they’re going out for drinks with a couple of Marcus’ mates from karting. It was a proper riot that lasted until after midnight. Still, he doesn’t miss the way that Marcus’ eyes would always seek him out. Even when they were standing on opposite sides of the bar, he looks as though he’s mapping out every inch of him with his stare. It wasn’t until he was brushing his teeth and looking straight at his reflection that he realized why Marcus was staring at him. He was wearing one of his shirts.
They woke up to a heavy snowstorm on Thursday morning. From the second floor window, they could see the backroad buried in snow. They stay cooped up inside the house for the rest of the day alternating between watching movies and just talking. Marcus told him stories about his childhood in this very house. He talked about their Christmas traditions with his grandparents, how his cousins shattered the lore of Jultomten by revealing that it was his dad that hid his presents. In return, Kevin told him about stories from home. He told him how equally terrified and ecstatic he was when his little brother was born. He even talked about his time at the factory, how sure he was for a time that that was what he was gonna do for the rest of his life. The one topic they never touched on was racing. It was as if they were both dancing around it, not daring to be the first to say anything.
The biting wind has ceased around five in the afternoon but the severe cold still makes his bones ache. They sat in front of the fireplace after dinner, two cups of coffee and a couple of large throw blankets between them. “I still can’t believe it’s going to be my last race next Sunday.” Kevin was transfixed on the embers but he quickly turned to face Marcus when he spoke. “It wouldn’t make a difference but you deserve that seat more than anyone.” And he means it. Every driver knows that in this sport, nothing is really definite. Even with the top 3 teams, anything could happen at any given time. You can work your ass off and have talent but your future can still be as uncertain as the weather. They both know it but it doesn’t stop Kevin from wanting to punch something out of frustration. “I didn’t really lose anything. I’m still racing next year and that’s all that matters.” He’s smiling as he says it, no trace of bitterness in his voice. Kevin would never admit it even on pain of death but if he can see that smile on Marcus’ face always, the world can crash and burn and he wouldn’t even notice.
He doesn’t know what woke him. He looked around the room and noticed it was still dark, the only light coming from the fireplace. They must have shifted in their sleep as they’re lying close to each other now, their socked feet touching underneath the soft blankets. Marcus must have sensed his agitation as he’s also awake and looking at him, concern etched in his face. His hand still warm from being tucked under the covers was firm around the ink on his arm. The surge of emotions he felt left him disoriented and confused. He drew in a ragged breath and stood up, “I need some air” he stammered. The house was dark as he made his way to the end of the hall. He sat at the foot of the stairs and tried to calm himself down. Even at a young age he’s never been able to express himself well and it certainly didn’t improve as he got older. He doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t know what it wants from him.
It was almost dawn when he returned to the living room. Through the window he could see a blue tinged sky promising the end of the storm. He lays down beside Marcus, placing his head on the same pillow. He’s grateful that Marcus understands him enough that he did not follow but stays right here knowing Kevin will eventually come back. He touches his forehead to his and matches his breathing to Marcus’ steady heartbeat and lets it lull him to sleep.
Mårten’s estimate on the weather proved to be accurate come Saturday, the sun clearly visible behind the clouds. He was driving for the first time since they got here, Marcus pointing out important landmarks as they move along. The GPS pinged to signal the right turn for Stockholm and no matter how many times he’s been here, it’s still as astonishing as the first time. The frost mutes the colors of the elegant spires and buildings in shades of pastel as if straight from a Wes Anderson film. They had lunch at an artisan café housed by a 19th century Gothic inspired building. Kevin couldn’t help but stare, impressed by the artwork lining the walls.
It was mid-afternoon when they got back on the road. Marcus stopped asking where they were really going after his 3rd attempt at the question was just met by an impish grin from Kevin. They drove through an off the beaten path covered on both sides by a sea of Oaks. Marcus couldn’t hide his surprise as the thicket of trees gave way and Kvarnsjö zooms into view. The lake has been famous for Nordic Ice Skating for a few years now and judging from Marcus’ reaction, he already figured out why they’re here. He’s mentioned to Kevin a few times how he’s always wanted to try it but never had the chance to.
There was only one other vehicle in sight. Two men were talking beside the truck while sipping hot drinks from their canisters. He parked a little further down to avoid an undergrowth near the shoreline. As they made their way to the pair, he recognized Mårten immediately from their Skype conversations. They shook hands and Mårten introduced his companion as Henrik. They changed into their gear while the two explained how they would go about in the ice. “Mårten needs to check first if the ice is thick enough.” Henrik explains. The older man steps onto the frozen lake and glides effortlessly through it. The sound that pierced the air as he does is otherworldly. There is no other way to describe it. “Kind of like a Formula E car, eh?” Marcus says to him. He nods. It does in a way as he listens closely but there is something so pure as metal slices it’s way through ice that tells him there is no other sound like it in the world.
It took a few more minutes before Henrik gave the signal for them to go in. They were both hesitant to follow at first, afraid of the ice cracking under their feet. It was black as midnight, reflecting only a portion of the sky above. Slowly, he tries to follow along the lines left by Henrik. The cold wind whips across his face and his nose is almost numb but the adrenaline rush is the best he’s ever felt. He didn’t realize how far he’s gotten until he looked back.
He couldn’t help the tightening sensation in his chest as he looks at Marcus who’s smiling so wide at every glide, his pale hair glinting like spun gold in the afternoon light. This must be what it feels like when the warmth of the sun kisses the frost covered landscape during the first days of spring. Marcus is moving towards him, laughing at whatever Mårten’s shouting at him. I’m going to miss your smile. I’m going to miss you. He doesn’t say it aloud though, instead he leads him to the center of the lake where the ice is thinnest making the sounds they make more quiet, more exquisite. I want to tell you something, he wanted to say. I need you to know.
They stayed inside the car looking out into the lake long after Mårten and Henrik have gone. In the background, the song plays softly.
You can hear it in the silence
You can feel it on the way home
And he does. He looks over at Marcus who is watching the slowly setting sun outside.
You are in love, true love
Smiling to himself, he takes Marcus’ hand in his.