Derek realized he’d taken way too long to answer, and with shaking fingers he quickly typed up a response.
I had a rough childhood and I got tattoos to remind myself that I survived. I work at a tattoo shop called Irons and Works. You know it?
Basil read over his shoulder, but instead of taking the phone back, he just smiled and shook his head.
If you ever want work done, come see me. I’m also an artist though. Is it okay if I show you my gallery?
At Basil’s confirming nod, Derek typed in his site address and pulled up his online gallery. He was mostly into nature work—he loved realism, but he wanted to draw and paint things that held life. Even though most of his animal work was in oils, his favorite was of an octopus curled around a rock surrounded by a bed of coral done in charcoal. There was no color, but for whatever reason, the drawing always looked the most alive to him. He had it hanging in his station, but more than anything, he wanted someone to appreciate it.
Maybe it shouldn’t have shocked him when Basil’s long finger tapped the screen, bringing the octopus to full image, but Derek still felt his heart stutter in his chest. With Basil leaning this close, Derek got a whiff of something heady and overwhelming, like the first wave of scent when you walk into a florist’s fridge to see the cold bouquets.
He dared a glance over, and he felt his heart beat even harder at the look on Basil’s face. His eyes were wide, lips slightly parted, a curl of black hair falling over his forehead as his eyes took in the image. When he pulled back, Derek switched back to the notepad.
That one’s my favorite, but it’s never sold.
You want selling this?
Derek shrugged. I want someone to love and appreciate my work. I’ll miss it when it goes, but I can wait. The right person will come along.
Basil smiled at him, leaning into his shoulder gently as he reached for the phone.
Beautiful. I make flower bouquet, sell in shop with sister. Older. Bossy.
Derek chuckled and shook his head in sympathy.
I have a twin brother, five minutes older, just as bossy.
Look like you?
Derek wished he had his phone with him, because yes, Sage was the mirror of him. Apart from a few tattoos and Sage’s shorter undercut, they could fool almost anyone. In fact, the third time Derek’s hook-up accidentally kissed his brother, Derek insisted Sage get something visible to declare who was whom. Sage settled on a shark riding up his neck toward his left ear, letting Derek do the ink, and if he was a little bit heavy-handed, well, Sage didn’t complain about it.
We’re identical.
Before he could write anything else, there was another flash of lightning, and thunder so close and so loud, it made his ears start ringing. When Basil jumped along with him, Derek turned to look at the guy.
Are you able to hear that?
Basil shook his head, then pressed his palm to the floor before typing.
Feel it. Noise make vibrate.
Another crack of thunder and that time, he noticed the rumble beneath him. It was enough to keep him distracted so he didn’t start to panic again, though there was the pressing threat of it at the baseof his spine he didn’t entirely want to acknowledge. The truth was, having Basil pressed up against him in that empty bank was enough to keep him grounded, and it wasn’t something he would have ever expected. With the panic at bay, he started to feel the fatigue of the day creeping up on him, his limbs heavy, eyes stinging. He wanted some hot food and his comfy bed, and he wanted to forget about this day completely.
Or well, most if it. Because this part was maybe one of the best things that had happened to him in a while and that was a little horrifying to think about.
Before he could reach for the phone again, the overhead lights started to flicker. They went on, off, then on again with a steady hum which sent both men jumping to their feet. They faced each other, and it was strange to be looking at Basil full in the face, in the dim light of the faded halogen bulb above them.
He was startlingly good looking, his wet hair in ringlet curls which had ceased dripping at some point during their conversation. He was thin under his thick coat, his skinny jeans hugging his legs, his converse making his feet look long and narrow. Derek stood at least four inches taller than him, but for whatever reason, he didn’t feel monstrously huge the way he normally did. Derek had the inexplicable urge to put his arms around Basil, kneel low, and bury his face in the guy’s neck, and he had to force himself to take a step back to keep from doing it.
Basil’s eyes flickered to the ATM which had rebooted, then to Derek before lifting his hands and signing, ‘You OK?’
It took Derek a minute for his brain to register the sign alphabet which he was just starting to memorize, but when it did, he offered a little smile. ‘OK,’ he repeated. ‘Thank you,’ he went on, then stopped because he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to next. ‘FOR HELP,’ he spelled.
Basil’s grin was wide and gorgeous, making Derek’s stomach flip. ‘Help,’ he said, mouthing the word as he showed him the sign, and when Derek copied it properly, he offered him a thumb’s up.
“I should let you uh…” He gestured to the ATM machine, unsure if Basil could read his lips, but when the other man nodded, he figured he’d gotten the gist of it. ‘Thank you,’ he signed again.
It was painfully awkward and unsure, but eventually Derek turned on his heel and marched out of the building. Where the rain had been annoying and unwanted, now it was a sweet relief, proof of freedom, that he hadn’t been trapped against his will. He glanced through the window again, to see Basil at the ATM punching in his code, and he forced himself to finish walking to the car.
