Clang(10)

"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.





Chapter 13


Chase


Chase was fucked.

He'd found it hard enough to resist flirting with Jackson before the  gorgeous, intense, sweet man started to flirt with him. Now, it was damn  near impossible. Hypersexual was a good description for Chase, but he  hadn't cared before.

The one problem? Jackson had said in his dating profile that he wanted a relationship. Chase didn't do relationships.