Clang (9 page)

On Monday night, Jackson shut down his forge an hour early just to head inside, shower, and shave. Maybe half his appeal was him working hard in the workshop, but this was a first date. He wanted to be clean and presentable.

Jackson shrugged on his usual grey t-shirt, then browsed his closet. He didn't want to choose plaid – too casual. A white shirt was too formal. Something in between, then...

After a few moments of thought, he picked out a long-sleeved dark purple collared shirt. He added a grey zip-up sweater in case the evening was chilly.

“That's it.”

Paired with black jeans, Jackson was good to go.

He strode out and locked the door to walk to the sushi restaurant. He could have driven, but it really wasn't far away and he was starting to like walking back and forth more to town. This neighborhood was only a couple minutes closer than his old house but it felt like a much bigger difference.

By the time he reached the sushi restaurant, it was six on the nose. Chase stood outside, browsing his phone.

“Hey! Did I keep you? Sorry!”

Chase automatically smiled, pocketing his phone and reaching out to touch Jackson's arm. “Hi. No, not at all. I just got here.” He leaned into Jackson and tilted his chin up, so Jackson leaned down to peck him on the lips.
He's so bold. I love it.

“All right. Shall we head in?”

They took seats at a table next to the conveyor belt. Jackson rolled his shoulders and scooted in next to it to get a good look at what was going around. “How was your weekend?”

“Slow,” Chase admitted. “Work went pretty well, though.”

Jackson nodded. “Mine was pretty slow, too. I spent yesterday pulling out the fence between my brothers' houses. The one between Thomas and me is the next to go.”

Chase raised his eyebrow. “Just... ripping out fences bare-handed? Okay, Popeye.”

Jackson was startled into a laugh. “I'm not casually boasting--”

The waiter interrupted them to deliver water and ask if they had any special orders. Jackson turned them down. It was more fun to hunt from the belt anyway.

“I wish they'd had cool stuff like this in university,” Jackson lamented. “My buddies and I would have gone out all the time.”

“You did uni here?”

“I did an associate's degree, yeah,” Jackson told him. “Then I realized I was enjoying blacksmithing too much and I actually liked it. Why bother pursuing a useless degree and getting in debt for something I'll never use?”

Before he even finished the sentence, Chase was nodding hard. “Exactly. I did my freshman year at U of T in fine arts, and... Jesus, I blew so much money. Then I did a tattoo school and I got lucky enough to get an apprenticeship, and that actually gave me a career.”

“D'you ever feel you missed out?” Jackson asked.

Chase frowned. “A little, sometimes. I mean, some guys wound up becoming socially aware, getting involved in activism and nonprofits and stuff. But a lot of others just... integrated into whatever other jobs we could find. I wish I'd been able to study queer studies as a major. I might've liked that.”

“Yeah,” Jackson hummed. He took his time to work through the three plates he'd first grabbed. “I don't know, I'm glad I went, but I'm also glad I didn't finish.”

“What was the associate's degree in?”

“Metal processing.”

Chase looked blank. He finished his last roll and started watching the belt again. “Like... what?”

“Uh, basically, I could be a welder or a ship-builder or something.”

“Oh. So that tied in with your blacksmith stuff. That's a lot more useful than an arts degree...” Chase grabbed another plate from the belt. “Aha. I knew there was another one of these going around.

Jackson laughed, then shrugged. “Even your year taught you some stuff for tattooing, though, I bet?”

“Yeah,” Chase admitted. He smiled, setting down his chopsticks to drink a few sips of water. “I like that you take my art seriously.”

Jackson stacked up his empty plates and folded his arms, leaning back to watch Chase. “Of course I do. I'm in the same boat. Most people think I just make swords...” Chase blushed. “Not you,” he hurried to reassure Chase. “But most people.”

Chase nodded. “Before I talked to you, I kinda thought so, too. I had this image of, I don't know, a manly burly dude with a foot-long beard and a Viking longship in his backyard...”

Jackson started to laugh. He might have been pretty strong, but he wasn't into the reenactment scene like his weaponry customers. “Yeah, no, that's common.”

“Kinda like most people think tattoo artists are ultra-masculine bikers. I'm girly in that scene,” Chase sighed.

Jackson frowned sympathetically. “Yeah. A little like Noah, then...?”

Chase winced. “I guess.”

There it is.
Jackson leaned forward. “Sorry. Is there something bad between you two...?”

“No, no,” Chase hastened to answer, almost spilling his water glass. “Crap. Oh, I didn't spill it.” He pushed aside his empty plates, then stacked them up to make room, his eyes down on the plates.

Jackson gave him a few moments to decide how to answer since something was clearly bothering him. He'd noticed something weird between them at the barbecue.

“I just... I have trouble with really... fem guys,” Chase admitted. “Christ, that sounds bad, but it's just...”

“Internalized shit? We've all been there.”

Chase winced again and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I
like
Noah, it's just... you know, he'd never fly in my hometown.”

I thought he was from Toronto.

Jackson sipped from his water glass. When Noah didn't seem inspired to continue, he answered, “Fair enough. As long as you treat him fine and vice versa, we're cool. It takes time to work out all that BS from your system.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course! I'd never take out my own... issues... on him,” Chase promised. He met Jackson's eyes now with a frown of concern. “Sorry I'm being weird. It was just a rough weekend.”

I'm not guilting him, am I?
Jackson reached across the table to touch Chase's hand. “I know you wouldn't.” Chase hesitantly smiled, and Jackson met it with a smile of his own. “Sorry you had a bad weekend, man.”

“S'okay,” Chase assured him. “It's a lot better Monday night, though.” Chase didn't pull back from the touch, his gaze flickering between Jackson's eyes. He turned his palm over to rub his hand along Jackson's as they shared a few moments of silence. “Shall we continue eating? Or are you full off three rolls?”

“Hell, no, I'm not done,” Jackson laughed. They turned their attention to grabbing plates from the belt again. Jackson started smiling again when he realized his hand still tingled from the brushes against Chase's palm.

***

The rest of their supper was far more relaxed. By the time he walked Chase home, they were bumping each other's sides playfully. Chase even reached out to take his hand for a few minutes while they walked and bantered.

Chase's weird moment earlier was truly gone, his wicked sense of humor back. Sometimes Jackson was left speechless, but he always ended up laughing. It was self-deprecating sometimes; Chase didn't take himself too seriously, and Jackson liked a grounded guy.

“You could come in,” Chase offered, gesturing towards his apartment building. “I'd like that.”

Jackson's eyes flickered between Chase's. Even the prospect of pulling away from him and walking home right now felt... cold.

Even in the short second or two he thought about it, the burn under his skin told him he wanted Chase.

“Okay.”

They were quiet now, the banter of moments ago gone as Chase led him to the staircase and up the flight of stairs. Every time they brushed, Jackson heard Chase's breath catch. He was sensitive even to Jackson reaching out to run a hand slowly up from the small of his back to the back of his neck.

He could be really fun in bed.

Jackson played with the hair at the back of Chase's head while Chase unlocked the door.

They took seconds to take their shoes off, their eyes fixed on each other.

“Want some water or something?” Chase asked to break the tension, his breathing already quick and his pupils blown wide. His eyes kept flickering up and down Jackson's body.

Jackson shook his head. He'd had his fill at the restaurant. He wanted a drink of
this
man, though.

“C'mon, then.” Chase took his hand to lead him to the living room and plopped on the couch, then pulled Jackson down beside him. He casually yanked his shirt out by the front so it was untucked, then unbuttoned the top button or two.

Jackson shifted to sit sideways, his arm along the back of the couch behind Chase. “You're really trying to tempt me, aren't you?” he teased.

Chase gave him a sly wink. “I might be. I've been waiting for hours now, you wanna kiss me again or what?”

Cocky!
The demand made Jackson laugh out loud, a grin spreading over his face. “I suppose. If you insist.”

He leaned in to press his lips against Chase's warm, pliable lips. Chase turned to press their knees together, already sliding his arm around Jackson's shoulders.

Jackson slid his arm around Chase's back in response, running his hand up Chase's back to the back of his neck again. He kissed Chase's lips a few times for thoroughness, then started to kiss along his jaw to his ear.

A shiver wracked Chase, and Jackson grinned. “You're so much fun,” he murmured into Chase's ear. He gently pressed a few kisses below and behind Chase's ear.

“O-Oh Jesus,” Chase whispered, his nails digging into Jackson's shoulders.

He was so fucking sensitive, and Jackson loved it. He kept kissing along the rim of Chase's ear to his lobe. He flicked his tongue along it and Chase's body nearly melted in his arms. At the warm kiss to his pulse point on his neck, Chase shifted, his breath catching.

It only took a kiss or two at his collarbone before Chase fumbled to unbutton the rest of his shirt, shoving it wide open.

Jackson took a moment to admire his chest, nearly bare of tattoos around his pecs. It showed off a gorgeous piece: an old-fashioned clock with Roman numerals and some fluid lines around it. “Beautiful tattoo.”

“Th-Thanks,” Chase breathed out. His voice was hoarse already, his body arching towards Jackson. Jackson gently trailed his lips along the warm skin of Chase's collarbone.

Chase was already panting, tiny sounds escaping from the back of his throat. His body pulsed and shivered with pleasure as Jackson gently savored the warm, soft skin under his lips. Jackson's lips closed around his nipple just below the tattoo, and Chase gritted his teeth and just moaned.

Jackson flicked his tongue along the nub, then circled his tongue around it a few times before flicking it a bit harder.

“Jesus, Jackson,” Chase whimpered, his nails biting
hard
into Jackson's shoulder now. It was a good thing Jackson had his shirt on.

He was
so
a scratcher... and maybe a screamer.

Jackson itched to find out.

He just chuckled and kissed over to the other one. He took his time to lick the bare skin around it before he licked the nipple and flicked it against his teeth.

Chase was sliding closer to him, pulling himself across the couch in an attempt to straddle Jackson's lap.

Jackson pulled back, his breathing heavy. “I don't want to leave you hanging. We should leave off before I get too far.”

Chase groaned quietly, then touched his face to compose himself. “Yeah,” he agreed breathily. “You're fuckin' addictive.”

He was utterly, breathtakingly gorgeous, and Jackson was
hooked
.

“So are you. When you're not running,” Jackson winked.

“I won't run next time,” Chase mumbled, but he was blushing hard as he lowered his hands again. He turned his head so Jackson kissed his lips instead of his cheeks. “You're incredible.”

Jackson chuckled, tangling a hand in Chase's hair and cupping his cheek.

God, it fit perfectly in his palm. He gently rubbed his fingertips through the hair above Chase's ear. He rubbed his thumb along Chase's jaw, watching his expressions with such affection. Then, he pecked Chase's lips again and sat up to let him compose himself.

Chase murmured, “It's my turn, though. I owe you one...”

Jackson frowned.
Nope.
“No such thing as owing me,” he told him firmly. “I don't want you counting favors.”

Chase blushed again, his cheeks rounding in pleasure before he smiled. “C-Cool. You don't want to...?”

Jackson shook his head. “Not tonight,” he murmured. “Another date? If you're up for it. You don't have to go on a date every time we make out. I mean, we're not exclusive. It can be a forging date.”

Startled, Chase laughed. “No, I got that,” he assured Jackson. “And no, we're not. But I... I think I'm cool with a forging date. That sounds hot. Haha.”