Clang by E. Davies Page B

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