Clang (5 page)

“En garde.”

Chase's hand almost shook, even though the flexible sword in his hand was surprisingly light. It wasn't even as heavy as his tattoo gun. The tip was covered in a bright orange cover, yet it felt... far more deadly.

His opponent, Belle, was clad in a mask and heavy clothing. She looked far more intimidating than he'd expected. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his feet pointed like he'd been taught. He imagined the tennis ball between them. Seconds later, that was forgotten. Belle lunged forward and he hastily brought his blade across to parry the blow.

Every second felt like years when he was waiting for the next blow.

Twice more his opponent tried before he got up the courage to lunge, too. Belle had fenced before, and it showed in the smooth way she moved.

“That's it, Chase,” their teacher, Mike, called out. “Keep going.”

Belle lunged again. This time, he noticed the moment the lightweight foil entered his personal space. The moment he'd parried her blow, he countered and the orange tip pressed against her chest plate.

“Whoa, good,” she praised, and her voice sounded surprised but pleased for him.

Mike echoed, “Good. Both of you stand down. You two, you're next.”

As they rotated off and set down their foils, Belle lifted her mask and smiled at Chase as soon as his was off. “That was great.”

Chase was still shaking. His adrenaline was through the roof. His thick protective equipment weighed him down and grounded him at least. “Thanks.”

“You go to school here?”

“No, but I just moved here a few months ago.”

Belle smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Cool. I can't believe this is only the third lesson. I've learned a lot.”

“Really? You seemed pretty good already.”

“Oh, no, I forgot most of what I learned before,” Belle laughed. “But it does come more naturally to you after lessons, I guess. You're coming along fast too.”

“Thanks.”

They turned their attention back to the current pair to try to study them. Chase smiled as he leaned back against the wall. Maybe he could pick up a couple friends here, too.

By the time the session was done, Chase was ready to run out of there. When he got a text message from Jackson asking him to hang out, he stopped mid-walk to Tim Horton's to answer.

Sure :) I was just about to grab supper.

Let's meet up for supper?
Jackson answered.

“Yes,” Chase whispered under his breath and answered,
Sure!
It would give him the chance to propose a crazy little idea. He told himself that was the only reason he was excited. Something about the way his heart warmed up said otherwise.

***

Jackson was dressed up nicely and waiting at the door to the restaurant. Chase's heart unexpectedly fluttered. It had been a long time since his last date.

Not that he wanted one with Jackson.

Chase cleared his throat and raised a hand to wave. He tried not to notice Jackson's clean, dark jeans, freshly-styled hair, or the ironed collared shirt. This was a step up from the usual t-shirt and jeans.

“Hey,” Jackson smiled, and for a moment, there was that hesitation again.
Just like when he saw me off last time.

Chase broke the tension by smiling and clapping Jackson's arm. He pulled open the door for them both. If Jackson didn't want things to be romantic between them, he wouldn't make this awkward. “How's it going?”

Jackson relaxed and offered him a smile. “Thanks. Not bad, just finished up some work for my brother. It's nice getting to swap work, even if it's a bit more of the same. Table for two, please.”

Once they were seated, Chase leaned in across the table and folded his arms. “More of the same?”

“Always staircases,” Jackson groaned. “I'm getting tired of them. I just want to make, I don't know... armor.”

Chase's cheeks turned pink. This was going to sound so cheeky, but... “Well, I have an idea. Um, I kind of want... a sword...”

“Yeah?” Jackson clearly saw where this was going.

“We could trade, somehow... if you're interested. I mean, back when we met, you said you were thinking of getting a secret tattoo. I don't know if you did that yet--” Jackson shook his head, so Chase continued, “--but I could help.”

“In exchange for a sword? What kind? I can't do copyrighted stuff,” Jackson told him upfront. “And I can't do something you can actually fight with – at least, it'd take me a long time.”

Chase blinked and laughed. “No, I'm not going for Lord of the Rings-style swords,” he reassured Jackson.

“You'd be surprised how many guys want to pretend they're in it,” Jackson grinned.

Their waiter took their drink orders. Jackson and Chase quickly picked their meals to order at the same time.

Once the waiter left, Chase looked back at Jackson. “But, no, kind of the style of an old-fashioned fencing sword, I guess?”

“Ahh. Foil? Sabre? I can't do everything,” Jackson warned.

“I don't have a particular style in mind. I know it's not competition-legal.”

“I can't do those either.”

“Right, right. I just want something to... I don't know, make me feel a bit safer. If I can bring it to some medieval festival someday, so much the better. But something I can display and... know I have around.”

Jackson looked at him oddly for a moment before he nodded. “Well, I want a family tattoo done.”

Aww, he's sweet. I hope he doesn't regret that, though.
“Oh, family tattoos aren't always a good idea,” Chase laughed under his breath. “So many people wind up getting laser removal when they have family fights.”

“I'm not fuckin' doing that,” Jackson answered, his voice much sharper than Chase expected.

Chase flinched hard.

Instantly, Jackson frowned an apology. He reached out with an open hand across the table to touch his arm. When he touched him, Chase's nerves crackled with pleasure. “Sorry, man. No, I didn't mean that at you.”

“No, sorry,” Cameron murmured. “I hit a nerve...?”

Jackson hesitated before he nodded. “I want it as a family thing... before my brother's heart surgery.”

Now Chase felt like crap. His eyes widened. “Is it Cam?”

“Yep.”

Chase winced. No matter how he felt about family, he ached for Jackson. He could see why Jackson was touchy. “Shit. I'm sorry. That has to be stressful.”

“It... It hasn't been easy.” Jackson looked a little more raw than Chase had seen him – like he'd looked when he talked about online dating. “It's called CPVT, have you heard of it?” Chase shook his head. “Well, it's a bit rarer. They took months to diagnose it because it usually shows up way earlier. I mean, occasionally you get older people diagnosed. Apparently it's usually
after
they go into cardiac arrest. In the States, I'm sure they would've diagnosed it in days. But because the public health system in Canada is--”

“--shit,” Chase chimed in, nodding his agreement. “Oh yeah.”

“It took a really good specialist and he had to go back to Ontario in July, middle of his work season...”

Jackson's passion about his brother made Chase smile with familiarity. If any doctor tried to fuck over his little brother... but he didn't have a say in that anymore.
Not the moment. This is about Jackson, not me.

Jackson cut himself off, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, they know what he needs now. They think it won't have a lot of risk, but... he kinda doesn't have a choice.”

The waiter came back with their drinks. Chase took a good few gulps of beer to wash out the bitter taste of regret for his ill-timed joke. Then, he leaned forward again. “Sorry I said that.”

Jackson seemed to have to think for a moment to remember. “What? Oh, no, I shouldn't have snapped. I get a little defensive about the people I care about. But you're right, overall. Like, boyfriends' names and stuff are stupid.”

Chase laughed at the honesty. “Well... yeah, I think so, but I'll do them if they've been together for decades or something. That's different.”

“You can know you want to spend your life with someone in weeks, though.”

It was Chase's turn to feel hot under the collar. He tugged it a little as he sipped his beer, then shook his head. “You can
think
you know them.”

“But if you both have the same approach to a relationship...”

“Like knowing that they told you the truth about themselves? What if they were lying?” This wasn't even an argument, oddly enough. Chase hadn't had a passionate discussion that wasn't a shouting fight in forever.

Jackson was sitting up straight, too. He looked much less stressed and livelier now. “Well, if they weren't deceiving you about the kind of person they are. I mean, if they clearly want to work to grow the relationship and be honest from the start...”

“Well, yeah, but they could just be... I don't know, tricking you.”

Jackson furrowed his brow. “How? By saying they want to be real and then... not being real?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Jackson hummed and leaned back in his chair. His lips pursed, and Chase watched them without meaning to. “Yeah, I see your point. But – I dunno. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

He was sweet all over, then. Chase just hoped not too many guys would take advantage of him while he was dating. Speaking of which...

“Have you met anyone from online?”

“Nah, not yet,” Jackson shook his head. “I haven't been looking. I don't know, I just think it's weird. Like, how would I know if I'm going to click with someone and have conversations like this on our first date or not?”

Chase felt heat flush to his cheeks.
He
was being used as an example of someone who clicked with Jackson? Something about that made his heart flutter in a familiar way that he hadn't felt in a long time. Was it possible Jackson thought he was hot, too?

No way... He's always been a gentleman. Wait. Unless that's just the way he is...

Chase leaned forward a little, but he didn't have the balls to follow through on the response he wanted to give. Instead, he answered, “You try it out just to see.”

I... I wouldn't mind trying
him
out. Just to see.

Chase drained the rest of his beer, his gaze sliding to their food order that was now arriving. That made for an easy subject change, at least.

They lapsed into comfortable conversation for dinner. Jackson agreed to come over tomorrow evening after the tattoo shop closed. They'd talk then about the services they wanted to trade.

Chase couldn't get that sudden thought out of his mind the whole time, even as he waved goodbye.

Why was Jackson suddenly catching his eye in a way he hadn't thought possible? He
had
to stop thinking about his friends like this.

“Hey, Chase. How's it goin'?”

Was that too casual? Or too flirty? Was he too early? Jackson tried to stop his mind from wandering and worrying over what he was doing seeing Chase again so soon. He was definitely
not
interested in Chase, right? Not if Chase wasn't interested in him...

The way Chase smiled at him in greeting made him wonder. His body warmed up as Chase's brown eyes lit up at the sight of him. Chase unfolded his arms and straightened up from where he leaned against the counter. “Hi! Good, you?” His smile was so cute.

“Great, thanks. This too early?”

“No, no. It's usually slow for the last bit. People don't come in to get work done
right
before closing. Just to book appointments, if that.”

Jackson nodded and approached the counter, setting his sketchbook down on it. “So, ready to go over what we're looking for?”

“Yeah. Hold on, let me grab my book.” Chase stepped into the back office. In the meantime, Jackson flipped through the photo albums on the counter.

One was labelled
Floyd
and one
Teri
, but there wasn't one for Chase. Were these the tattooists? When Chase returned, Jackson pointed them out. “None for you?”

Chase's eyes flickered up to Jackson's, his shoulders rising. The defensive moment was gone as fast as that before he pointed to his arms. “There's my portfolio.”

Jackson laughed. “I bet you use that line a lot.”

“I do, yeah,” Chase joined in the laugh. He came around the counter to stand next to Jackson, flipping his own sketchbook open.

“Can I check them out, then?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Chase leaned his hip on the counter and offered his arm, turning it this way and that. Jackson sidled closer, trying not to brush too close to him.

A lion stood proud on one arm, its every contour rippling with majesty. It blended into a rippling series of dusky blue and lavender clouds, then pale red roses. Further down, towards Chase's wrist, thorny green branches were entwined with the roses.

On Chase's other arm, a peacock spread its wings in flight. The tail feathers wrapped intricately around his elbow all the way down to his wrist. The same dusky blue and lavender clouds set it off in the background.

Just as when they'd first met, Jackson marveled over the smooth swirls of that style. “Wow,” Jackson murmured. “That's... that's really detailed. Did you do all this?”

“I had to get some people to help me fill in a few bits and hold mirrors and stuff. Some spots were an ordeal,” Chase laughed. “But most of it.”

“I'd like that kind of style on mine, and those kinds of colors.”

“All right. Well, we'll talk about it,” Chase agreed. “Do you have any concepts?”

Jackson shook his head. “Just some rough ideas.” He flipped through his book in search of them. It was always risky to flip through a sketchbook, though. He tried to flip past certain pages quickly.

“Okay, I usually don't comment, but...” Chase spoke up, his tone teasing. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours. If they're not people you know...”

Oh man, he thinks I draw French boys.
Jackson blushed. “They're not specific people.” He flipped back to his nude sketches. There weren't many – he didn't really draw people aside from modeling his rare human sculptures. He liked to find organic shapes for metal sometimes, though...

“Not bad,” Chase murmured, leaning in for a better look at a drawing of a naked man stretched out on his side along the floor. “Did you study drawing people?”

“No, not beyond a basic sketching class.”

“That's pretty good, then.”

Jackson smiled at the compliment. It wasn't over-the-top, but it was sincere praise. “Thank you. What about you?”

Chase had been waiting for him to ask. He beamed and flipped open his notebook, turning back a good chunk of pages.

Oh, shit. His men were
hunks
. They were all strong and posed in masculine ways – one from the side, looking sideways and flexing an arm. Another was from behind, the man's head rolled back and arms spread. A third showed him from the front, curling a strong bicep across his muscled chest.

“Wow,” Jackson grinned, his gaze returning to his own page. He'd drawn willowy men with strong cheekbones, keen eyes, and a little light muscle. His men actually looked a little like Chase... And Chase had drawn men like him.

Chase had reached the same conclusion at the same moment. His lips parted as he gazed at Jackson's sketch, then at Jackson and his own notebook.

He was flustered. Jackson had never seen him flustered before. Red crept up his angular cheeks, his pretty pink lips looking...

Oh, no. Jackson wanted to kiss him.

“That based on anyone in particular?”
Jackson asked. He hoped his voice didn't sound strained.

“My ex,” Chase snorted with laughter. “But he was an asshole, so I don't mind you looking. It's not an exact drawing anyway.”

Jackson was startled into a laugh. “Oh. He looks tough.”

Chase's smile faded as he looked down at the page, then flipped forward to a blank one again. “Yeah. He was.”

Jackson didn't like the way he was shutting down. He was starting to get a horrible sneaking suspicion that this guy had been bad news.

Not again.
His little brother Cam had split up from his ex for the umpteenth time earlier that summer, just before meeting Noah. Jackson had talked Cam into blocking that asshole's number at last. Not that he was worried now; Cam was utterly smitten with Noah.

But Jackson knew how to handle this: with a light touch. He let the subject drop and instead teased, “Nice buff men.”

Chase looked up, smiling. “Thanks,” he laughed. “You can tell my type of man, huh? Yours are a lot more... willowy.”

“They are,” Jackson agreed, and pulled back from Chase enough to look him up and down. He winked. “More like you, but not as handsome.”

Chase's pink blush deepened to a dark red. His cheeks rounded in pleasure that he was trying not to show. Instead, he stuttered, “S-So, did you have any, uh, ideas for your tattoo?”

That's adorable.
Jackson grinned at his sudden bashful behavior. “A few. There's a coat of arms for the Riley family, since we're all from Ireland and northern England.”

“Oh, the old shield on your arm kinda thing?”

“Not exactly.” Jackson grinned. “Um, ours involves a severed hand dripping blood, held up by two pissed-off lions...”

Chase's eyebrows shot up and he laughed. “Oh, you don't want something really morbid? I mean, I can do bones poking out—”

“
No
,” Jackson spoke over him, pushing Chase away from him lightly. “Ugh, no, that's
not
my style.”

“I didn't think so,” Chase laughed louder, elbowing him back playfully. Their shoulders brushed and Chase shivered as he leaned in across his sketchbook, uncapping his pen with his lips.

Jackson stared at the red lips wrapped around the smooth plastic pen cap. He imagined them elsewhere for a moment. He quickly looked at Chase's eyes when Chase prompted, “So, the lions?”

“Yeah. The colors are green and gold, maybe yellow.”

“Green and yellow lions?”

He was already drawing in quick, confident strokes, outlining a lion from the side just as they appeared on so many family crests. How many had he tattooed already? Or did he just draw from memory? God, he was good. Jackson was a bit jealous.

“It doesn't have to be exactly that,” Jackson told him. “That's just one... source of inspiration. I mean, a realistic lion like you've got on your shoulder would be epic. Or there's inside family jokes I could get done.”

Chase hummed, eyeing the lion for a moment. Then, he nodded and straightened up. “How about I doodle a few ideas and show them to you soon? Text me with any suggestions to add to the design or consider. Family jokes or names or anything.”

Jackson gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I'm pretty open to ideas. I wouldn't mind having something... weapon-y, or otherwise blacksmith-y.” Jackson became aware that he was still leaning sideways against the counter facing Jackson. They were just a little closer than friends usually stood, and Jackson's heart raced.

Chase raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little further still. “Blacksmith-y? Is that a word?” he teased. His dark eyes fell to Jackson's lips before he dragged his gaze back up to Jackson's eyes again.

He's flirting, too...!
Jackson bit back his moment of excitement. He licked his lips and nodding. “It is now. Uh, speaking of which...”

It was his turn to pull back a little so he could flip through his book. He had photos added to the book with little corner squares near his concept sketches.

When he found some swords, he showed Chase. “These are a few that I did last year for one collector... and around here, I have another one... ah, here. I should have brought my portfolio book. That's back at the workshop.”

“Hm,” Chase rubbed his chin, leaning in across Jackson.

He smelled like leather and hand sanitizer and something fresh and spicy...

A chill ran down Jackson's spine. He tried to lean sideways and watch Chase trace the pattern along the hilt with a finger. He tried
not
to look at the short hair at the back of Chase's neck that he ached to feel against his lips.

Shit. I want him.

“I like that, I think. But I'd like to see other examples.”

“Wanna come back to my workshop?” Jackson offered as casually as he could.

He didn't miss the way Chase licked his lips and nipped the lower lip. “Yeah, sure. The shop's just about closed now. You'll just have to wait for me to close up.”

“Fine with me,” Jackson assured him. “I'll wait outside and be your burly security guy,” he added, winking again.

“Oh, my hero.” Chase grinned, returning to sketching a few more lions – the heads, the full bodies curled up, one holding a sword... oh, that just looked dumb.

Jackson snickered under his breath.

“Yeah, I didn't expect you to take to that one,” Chase grinned. “Sword-fighting lions? No?” He added a second lion, lying on the ground, and drops spurting out of the second lion's chest...

“No!” Jackson laughed and shoved Chase, making him streak the paper with his pen tip. “No, that's horrible!”

Chase laughed richly, then capped his pen and tucked it into his pocket. “Go wait outside then, I'll be there in a couple minutes.”

Jackson grinned, brushing his hand down Chase's arm from his shoulder to his elbow. He grabbed his sketchbook. “Yes, sir,” he teased. The door rattled shut behind him as he stepped out into the mild August evening.

Jackson drew a deep breath to try to calm himself.

He'd made Chase get flustered, but something about Chase was getting to him, too. Was this just because they were both single and around each other? But... no, it wasn't just that.

The conversation last night at the restaurant had shown him a new passion. Chase had only ever been calm and collected around Jackson before. That spark of fiery attitude that made Jackson stop and pay attention.

For some reason, Jackson was even enchanted with Chase's morbid sense of humor. He knew Chase only did it because it got to him, but somehow that made him grin even more to himself. It was like buddies messing around with each other, but... there was more. Especially every time they brushed together.

Something told him it was going to be hot at the forge, and he couldn't wait.