Clang (3 page)

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.

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.

“Do you like Fredericton?” Antonio chatted, in the tone of a man who was making more or less polite conversation. This was what Chase relished: being touched and desired, sharing bits of their lives without having to commit later. Without risking anything.

“It's not bad. You? So far?”

“I would say the same.” Antonio snorted. “I had to buy a car in my first week, though. The buses here are... lame.”

Chase laughed. Some slang was easy to pick up.

The walk to Antonio's car was short. That was lucky, since they kept bumping into each other's side deliberately. They touched each other's arm or back, and sometimes outer thighs. Once, Antonio reached in front of Chase to press a crosswalk button even though the street was empty. While pulling his hand back to himself, Antonio groped him.

Chase was aching for him. He strode across the street to wait while Antonio unlocked the car.

“You live nearby?”

“Uptown.”

Chase grimaced. That was a long walk home for him.

“There's nobody else around,” Antonio observed mildly, watching him with those dark, lustful eyes.

Easy decision.
Chase opened the back door and climbed in. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked in a stranger's backseat, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Antonio tumbled on top of him, just barely pulling the door closed behind him. His body already blanketed Chase's. He pushed his knee into the backseat and straddled Chase. As he ground against him, Antonio yanked him up by the shirt to kiss him hard.

Chase moaned into Antonio's mouth. His hard cock appreciated the pressure of a hip – and then another cock pressing forward through layers of fabric.

“You have anything?”

“Huh?” Chase pressed a few more kisses to Antonio's lips.

Antonio gently sucked his lower lip, then whispered, “Tested?”

“Ah. Yeah. Nothing. You?”

“I'm good. And you are very handsome,” Antonio whispered. His breath was hot on Chase's lips as they pulled apart. Chase's heart pounded and body burned from the contact. “I spotted you instantly.”

Chase's ego soared. He couldn't help a grin. “Yeah? You're pretty hard to miss, too.” He reached up to comb a hand back through that thick, curly hair.
Soft
hair, too, Jesus.

That reminded him that he'd meant to check something. Chase reached down to run his hands across Antonio's ass, squeezing. His trousers
did
feel good. Probably some fancy Italian brand.

Antonio moaned, and Chase squeezed again, pulling him in tightly between his legs. He reached between them to fumble and get his jeans down.

When Chase's cock met open air, it throbbed with pleasure. He spread his legs, one knee bumping the back of the driver's seat while the other pressed up against the seat. He licked his own fingers and slid them inside, not wanting to allow Antonio this intimacy.

Antonio seemed fine with it – he was busy getting a condom on anyway. Chase couldn't see a lot of his dick in the dark backseat, but enough of it to know he'd feel it. Phew.

When his fingers slid out of himself, the lubricated condom tip – and he was thankful for that – pressed against him. Chase dug his fingers into his own thigh, gasping and rolling his head back at the penetration. The window steamed up behind them with the heat of their desire-laden breaths.

Antonio was thin but long, at least, almost filling him. He had a nice curve to him, but not the best Chase had felt.

At least he was good at fucking. The car rocked with the force of Antonio's thrusts inside him. His head rubbed across the prostate to send thrills of arousal through Chase's tense body.

“Gorgeous,” Antonio praised. Chase realized it had been a while since a hookup praised him during sex instead of just before it.

“So are you,” Chase murmured, and he meant it. Pretty, if not the guy he'd bring home for a date.

Antonio leaned down, pulling his shirt up around his chest so he could kiss along the tattoos over his chest and on his side.

Chase let the little sparks of desire be fanned into flames by the hot, wet pressure against bare skin. Antonio's thrusts grew harder and he was overcome by the moment. All rational thought was swept away by the mindless desire to come and make Antonio come, too.

Their grunts, moans, and the wet sound of sex and kisses echoed in the confines of Antonio's car. When Antonio came a minute or two later, his cock was buried deep in Chase. Chase rolled his head back to expose his throat and groaned. He reached down to stroke himself hard, their bodies still locked together. Antonio thrust with each little quiver of his body and muscles.

It was all sex and no space to breathe, utterly overwhelming Chase. Just the way he liked it.

Chase came hard, gritting his teeth together to try to stifle the sound as he cried out, then grunted. He kept his hand over the tip of his cock to catch the mess so he didn't fuck up Antonio's seat. He clenched hard around Antonio's softening cock, his back arching as his chest heaved. He was half-desperate for breath for a few seconds. Once he caught it, he settled back down again.

“Thank you,” Antonio murmured. “Very considerate.”

Chase laughed breathlessly. The tension drained out of his body and Antonio slipped out. “Anytime. Got a tissue?”

“Here.” Antonio pressed one into his hand and he used it to wipe both his hands clean. Antonio had a trash bag under the driver's seat, so Chase put it in there. “Here good?”

“Yes.” Antonio added his condom to the bag.

Antonio tried to brace himself above Chase so he could pull his pants back up and button them. Once he was decent, he wiped off both backseat windows. He pushed open the door by their feet and slid backwards out of the seat.

That gave Chase enough space to yank his own jeans back up and clean up, tucking his shirt back into his waistband.

Antonio eyed him as he pulled himself out of the car, holding the back door open for him. “Thanks, gorgeous.” He leaned in to air-kiss both of Chase's cheeks. It was an awkwardly intimate move compared to the usual rush out the door.

“You, too,” Chase answered automatically, puckering his lips but not actually meeting skin. “Good luck in Fredericton.”

A whole semester or more of seeing this guy at the club. Oh, well, I'd do him again.

It wasn't a long walk back home from here, but Chase still had a good ten or fifteen minutes to think about the nitty-gritty.

The way Antonio had watched him and told him he was sexy was... well, hotter than he'd had in a while. He hadn't been great on giving Chase pleasure, but a lot of guys didn't do that, either. It had been ages since anyone had even given him head.

Three AM thoughts were
always
destructive. Chase couldn't help them sneaking into his mind, though. He was good to be fucked or lusted after – he knew that much. Anything more? Nah. He wasn't interested anyway.

Chase kept his head down as he padded through the halls to his apartment. Getting exactly what he'd wanted that night didn't stop him feeling the usual low, twisting feeling in his stomach.

If what he wanted wasn't what he needed, what was?