Chapter Text
It was the trip of a lifetime, yet Brock hadn’t quite felt the buzz of it, especially with John cooing at his boyfriend’s face through his phone, his voice bellowing and like a knife down his ear. (not that he didn’t like John, he was just loud and Brock would often get annoyed at the constant talk of Lucas .) He was a stranger in a strange land, surrounded by laughter and the strong smell of fast food they’d ordered for the ride.
Craig, who was sat at the head of the broad car, had his eyes firm on the road, and hands tightly clenched around the steering wheel, singing along quietly to the smooth words of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons; joined by Marcel who’s singing was cacophonous, muffled by his mouth-full of burger. Alongside Brock was Anthony, his head tilted backwards and snores erupting. Even further down was Jon, also asleep (surprisingly since Marcel was partially deafening Brock) his head buried in Anthony’s neck, breathing heavily and more than you’d expect, making the bearded man beside him jump and swat his pale face away. Behind the three was John, who was a last minute addition to the trip after his boyfriend, Lucas, was taking a trip back home to Canada in hopes of spending time with his family. He’d elected to sit in the trunk, tightly surrounded by bags upon bags and suitcases belonging to each of them.
Brock remembers the first time the trip was mentioned to him, Marcel springing it on him one day as they were screaming at each other through discord during a game of Mario Kart. He’d suggested it as a joke but after Craig announced that his parents knew the owner of a cabin resort and he could organise a season for them there at a considerably lower price, the latter became seriously considered. He specifically remembers the statement: “literally everyone that works there is hot so you won’t be shy of a bit of action .” So, despite Brock’s protests, they ended up agreeing to take a trip there in Craig’s “fancy” new car.
“Our summer romances are in full bloom and everybody’s in love!” the voice from the radio snapped Brock out of his thought and he glanced out of the misted window to be graced with vast stretches of prepossessing mountain ranges, followed by cabins scattered across the land assumed to be owned by the friend of his blue haired companion’s parents. Brock smiled, the aura of happiness engulfing him as the smiles became evident on everybody else's faces, apart from Anthony’s because, as per usual, he was still asleep. John finally ended his call with the dark haired canadian and threw his arms around Brock’s strong frame, shouting random incoherent traces of words along the lines of “how amazing is this?” and “Lucas would love this!” Brock just laughed him off and jerked forward as the car came to a halt, launching John’s head into the headrest.
“Br- Craig you little shit!” He shouted out as he clasped his hand over his forehead, unintentionally causing the entire car, even Anthony this time, to erupt into fits of laughter, all eyes on the blonde with a pout on his face. John flipped his friends off and crossed his arms, ultimately breaking out of character and laughing along. Everything was cut short by the sound of knocking on Craig’s window, it was only then, when Craig pushed the button to roll the window down that the young men were met with Neil, the scrawny, wrinkly man who was quickly identifiable as the second-generation owner of the resort.
In the next minute, all doors were opened (and the trunk for John) and all of the friends were standing at the rear of the car, conversing with the older man. Brock was zoned out again, observing the sharp features of the man and how they would scrunch up whenever John would talk, as if he already had a vendetta against the lovable blonde man.
“Boys, i’d like to introduce you to my nephew, Evan. He’s hoping to go on to music school, isn’t that right? But i’d much prefer him here with me.” Neil proceeded to throw his arm around a well-built asian man, who didn’t really look like any relation to the older of the two. He was dressed in what Brock could only describe as a waiters uniform, white with a gold lining; he had a nervous smile on his face as he put a hand through his hair and he nodded. Jon’s face immediately lit up and he punched Marcel and muttered “fuck! I didn’t bring my shorts!” Brock saw Neil’s face turn to a scowl as he tightened his grip on Evan, digging his fingers into the broad shoulders of his Nephew. John and Evan’s eye contact remained and Brock narrowed his eyes at the towering figure of Neil, clenching his fists. Anthony must’ve seen his reaction because a tattooed arm was soon thrown over his shoulder. Meanwhile, an even taller figure than the owner was removing his the bags from the trunk, hoping to go unnoticed. He noticed the blue-hair of Craig was showing at the top of his vision and found that he was burning a hole in his head so he looked up and flashed a small smile as quick as he could and returned back to his previous commitment.
“Alright then boys, how about I show you to your Cabin? ”
The half hour following that statement were spent on a personal tour of the luxurious cabin that Brock wasn’t even going to ask how Craig managed to get; a picturesque living area packed with velvet-cushioned seats and a wide-set kitchen, three bedrooms equipped with two queen-size beds per room. Brock would be sharing a room with Jon, while Anthony and Marcel, and John and Craig would be rooming. All bedrooms contained en-suites and neither Brock, nor his companions were disappointed. Post-tour, the six of them congregated on the seats and floor of the living area and chatted amongst themselves, in hopes of figuring out their plans for the night.
“You know, I think I heard the old dude say they offer dance lessons here.” Marcel began, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Brock rolled his eyes, jabbing Anthony’s thigh with his feet in boredom.
“They offer everything here, it’s a resort, you knob-jockey” Craig joked, playfully pushing him away and turning back to the other members of the group, looking as though he had something to say.
“This is our first night here, how about we drink to the occasion? I’m sure Neil mentioned something about leaving some bottles for us here incase we wanted some” he proposed, much to the disagreement of Brock, but who listens when there's alcohol involved?
So there the six men were, sitting around the fireplace, laughing and drinking away their night. Glasses were thrown and shattered across the wooden planks that made up the base of their cabin, (mostly by Anthony) a lot of shots were taken and many variations of alcohol at their disposal were spilled across the floor, causing one-too-many hazards for the inebriated friends. By 3am, John was passed out in a pool of his own whiskey, Marcel was upside down on the velvet chair, Craig was being pulled off the kitchen counter by Jon, who had one shoe on and one leg in his pants, and Anthony was laying on Brock’s chest, laughing at nothing.
“You know, what’s your name? Dean? No.. Ben!” Anthony slurred out, staring intently into Brock’s eyes as he continued “BROCK!!! I’ll pay you fifty dollars and a hug if you go to one of those dance lessons Mark? That one, was talking about earlier” he screamed out as he pointed at an exhausted Marcel. Brock just laughed and closed his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, Anthony.”