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Clang(5)

By:E. Davies


Thomas glanced over at where Jackson pointed. "Well done." Thomas didn't  know what he was looking for. It was definitely a section of Cameron's  railings for the landing above his living room. It looked... well, just  like the plan had shown. "You'll find a man who appreciates...  well-forged joins."

Jackson laughed and turned the whole metal piece over. It clanged  against the table as he inspected the cooling rods he'd just joined.  "Thanks for your vote of confidence."

"Have you thought about trying?" Thomas asked casually, hoping he didn't give himself away with some nervous tic.

"Yeah, actually," Jackson answered. He paused and looked at Thomas, but  he didn't seem to suspect anything. Instead, he looked back at his  piece. "Can you... not tell Cam this?"

Thomas perked up with curiosity. "Of course."

"I just registered for an online dating site. I was getting Chase to  help me with my profile." Jackson fidgeted with his hammer, tapping it  against the metal here and there.

"Cool," Thomas answered to show his brother that he was fine with it. Jackson was a little old-fashioned in some ways.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Thomas laughed. "Everyone's meeting people online these days. But why not tell Cam? He wouldn't mind either."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Cause he'll make fun of me."

Thomas snorted with laughter. "Oh, can't take the heat?"

"Fuck off and get us a couple beers from my fridge," Jackson laughed.

Thomas grinned and punched Jackson's shoulder on the way by. "Let me know if you meet up with anyone on there, yeah?"

"I will. Thanks, man." Jackson looked more relaxed already and offered  Thomas a smile. Little did Jackson know that Thomas had other reasons  for offering brotherly support. Then, the question Thomas was hoping not  to hear. "Hey, what about you?"         

     



 

"What about those beers?" Thomas countered with a grin and walked out to  grab them. He knew Jackson would let it drop when he came back to the  workshop... Jackson and Cam took hints well.





Chapter 6


Jackson


After he finally put out the forge for the night, Thomas having long  since gone to read, Jackson checked his messages. So far, just a student  who was too young for him and two guys who wanted to hook up.

He reminded himself what Chase had said. It would take time before  people found his profile, and he should browse profiles and message  others. With Thomas's support, he'd have a second opinion if he wasn't  sure about someone. Thomas was a scarily accurate judge of character,  and he didn't hold back with the truth. At least Thomas rarely made fun  of Cam and Jackson like they did each other.

Even though Jackson wanted a date, he just couldn't be bothered to actively look for one.

He rubbed his chin as he set aside his laptop and turned on the television instead.

A date implied romantic pressure. Then there was that awkward chemistry  assessment, and the bit where they tried to work out who was a top. Some  guys weren't ballsy enough to just ask. Most assumed he was, anyway,  and they weren't wrong.

Jackson wished he could have something a bit more... comfortable. Kind of like when Chase hung around, but with chemistry.

Well, with mutual chemistry.

Jackson had felt a weird moment when he'd walked Chase to his front door  to collect his sweater before seeing him off. It was like the end of a  first date when you didn't know whether to go for a hug or a kiss or a  handshake. Jackson had ended up offering a handshake and half-hug in  thanks for the profile help.

In response, Chase had just given him a polite "bye for now" and smiled.  He must not have felt the same potential as Jackson. Jackson's arm had  slid around that willowy body for a hug and Chase's warm body had  pressed up against his...

He drew a breath and let it out, trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

Fuck. Maybe I do need to get laid if I'm thinking about buddies like that.

Jackson reopened one of the messages, but the gut feeling he had in response made him close it again.

It was worth waiting for more.





Chapter 7


Chase


The music was pounding by the time Chase made it to the only gay club in  the city. It was clean and classy, with lights and music that always  made Chase feel a little higher on life. And the drinks were good and  cheap. Even if it had been expensive and overrated, he still would've  had to go. It was one of like two in the whole province.

Ugh, this place sometimes.

But it was so out of the way that it was the last place anyone would think to look for him.

It had been a long night, and still nobody had bitten. "Another cooler,  please," he called over the counter to the bartender. He didn't even  mind the music being loud up here by the bar. It was okay sometimes not  to have to make conversation with the guys standing next to him.

After Chase paid for his cooler, he turned and leaned against the counter. Time to scan the room for available men.

It was often the same kind of crowd from week to week, so he already saw  at least half a dozen guys he'd gone home with. He chugged from the  bottle and decided he wanted someone new, but wouldn't complain if it  were a repeat.

The club wasn't just for gay guys. The queers and freaks and shy people  who didn't feel comfortable going out to mainstream bars wound up here.  Lots of students who were flexible in their gender or sexuality, too.  Then there were visitors from small towns looking to join the "big  city's" nightlife.

It was a good thing. It made for some variety, otherwise it would have been the same hundred guys all the time.

Chase liked that he got so much attention here. Sure, every pickup line  was the same, but it took the effort out of it. He wore his  short-sleeved shirt or a low v-neck t-shirt to show off his tattoos. It  made it easy for guys to approach and talk to him about them.

Some nights, like tonight, the conversation didn't go anywhere with  anyone, though. The club was nearly closing and there still wasn't a  nibble. It was frustrating.

He heard someone talking over the music and turned to take him in. "Nice tats."

"Thanks," Chase automatically answered. The guy was a little taller than  him with broad shoulders and blond hair, and a wicked smile. He had  nice lips, at least. It might have been just the lighting, but his skin  looked a little darker... Italian? He had the curly hair for it. "I'm  Chase."

"Antonio."

Definitely Italian, then. Someone foreign  –  that was a bit more interesting. He turned to face Antonio. "Studying abroad?"

"Yeah. It's my first semester, so I moved here on August first to start  my lease." Antonio looked casual. He wore a short-sleeved collared shirt  of his own and nice, smooth-looking trousers. He dressed well, then.  All the Europeans did  –  the few who wound up in this city, anyway. Not a  lot of people wanted to study abroad here compared to, say, Vancouver  or Halifax or Toronto.         

     



 

Chase nodded, taking a few deep gulps of his cooler. The accented words  rolled off Antonio's tongue effortlessly. "You speak good English. Did  you grow up speaking it?"

"Yes. English, French, and Italian. They're all pretty easy to learn." Antonio's eyes were raking up and down his body.

"We learn French, too, but it's Québécois. A little more slangy, I  hear." Desire burned through Chase's body in response to the look. Just  being wanted was enough to make him tingle. Being lusted after was even  better.

Being lusted after by a stranger, someone he didn't have to look in the eye later, was fucking perfect.

It was probably sick, but that was the way it was: Chase needed to be  wanted by people who didn't know who he was. Once the relationship got  deeper, he got scared off. He was used to it and he adapted his dating  patterns accordingly.

Antonio chuckled. His eyes were back on Chase's, and there was no doubt  what he wanted. He slowly raised his bottle to his lips and tipped it  back to drain it, then slid it across the bar and held out his hand.  "Shall we dance or go to my car?"

The unspoken message: Why even bother pretending?

No need to feign interest when they could cut to the chase.

Chase answered, "You parked nearby?" He gulped the last few sips of his drink and pushed the bottle back, too, then stood up.

"In the library parking lot."

"That's pretty close."

Antonio's hand rested on his back to steer him out of the club. Chase  avoided eye contact with the bouncer on the way by. Not that he felt  guilty. He was fucking lucky, getting taken home by the hot new foreign  exchange student without a fuss.

Chase's nerves tingled at the firm pressure on his back. As they waited  for a taxi to pass before jaywalking, Antonio's hand slowly rubbed up  his spine. He rubbed all the way up to his shoulder and back down. The  slow circles of palm against his skin kept him on edge. Finally, Chase  couldn't distract himself any longer: his cock started to stiffen.