Manuscript Monday Titan in Chains (Broken Heroes One): Fucking Doesn't Solve Everything

I'm putting the finishing touches on Titan in Chains and starting the revisions this week. *happy dance* Calder and Patrick are a joy to work with -- even if I have to pry them apart at moments to progress the plot. Seriously. Fucking doesn't solve everything.

In my effort to provide lovely visuals, I stumbled upon some Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes fanart. *sigh* I don't give enough love to Marvel, mostly because I've only read the Deadpool comics (but I enjoy Marvel movies).

Steve/Bucky (Stucky, which sounds like a kind of glue), is so sweet. Yep. I ship it.

 And Red Arrow being sexy because Red Arrow being sexy.

Here's another snippet of Titan in Chains, this time Patrick and Calder are not their alter-egos, but they're still fighting. Sort of. This hasn't been edited yet, so things might change and typos are a large possibility.

Enjoy!

Once Calder deemed them both loose enough to proceed, he stood facing Patrick on the mat. His chest was mostly smooth but for the hint of dark hair on his pectorals and the happy trail that led down his pants. It didn’t look like he shaved, however.

“What now?” Patrick asked and put his hands on his hips.

Calder scratched the back of his head. “Uh, well, I said I’d teach you to protect yourself.”

“I could just take up krav maga.”

For a moment, Calder looked at a loss. His body was so tense, so rigid, it could’ve shattered into pieces at one touch. “It’s more fun this way.”

Patrick laughed and put up his fists. He’d have to fight years of training not to finish this too quickly. Or, hell, let on that he had any training whatsoever. As it was, Calder looked like he was holding something back too. What could that be?

“Okay, teach away. What’s first? Do I get to try to knock you down?”

“That’s a good place to start,” Calder said with a grin.

Running into Calder was like running into a brick wall. No wonder he played football. The first time was funny, but by the fifth, Patrick was ready to whip out his knowledge and stop with the lies. Not really, but the temptation bubbled in his mind as Calder offered him a hand and pulled him off the mat. Again.

His damn chest was as solid as Titan’s.

Patrick frowned. He wasn’t going to pursue that line of thought right now. Because if Calder was Titan – dear Lord – and he thought his life was complicated now.

On his sixth try, Patrick decided he could reasonably knock Calder down without raising suspicion. He used the good old sweep kick to do it – grab an opponents shoulders and swipe them off their feet by the ankles. It disrupts their balance and they hit the ground.

Calder didn’t.

He stood as solid and strong as a goddamn piece of granite and grinned. “That might’ve worked on someone who wasn’t expecting it.”

Patrick punched him playfully in the chest. It was hard and warm. He balled his hands to keep from running his fingers over it. “Thanks. You teaching me a few moves is making me feel like a five-year-old.” Or like someone facing down a man with vastly superior strength. Shit. He never could turn his brain off.

 “I’ve got a solid six inches on you.”

“Five and a half,” Patrick corrected. He’d said something similar to Titan.

Calder shrugged. “If you say so.”

Patrick took a step back, spread his legs and planted his feet. “If you’re so good, why don’t you show me your moves?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Plus, it’s not like I’ve had a bunch of formal training.”

“You’re just big and can punch holes in people’s skulls?”

Calder’s smile faltered. “What? No. Not holes. I mean, you could probably knock me down if you really tried.”

No doubt Apprentice could in a less than five seconds, but Apprentice wasn’t here right now. “How about you humor me. My bodyguard taught me a few things.”

“Bodyguard?” Calder raised his brows.

“Of course. Deacon has a lot of enemies. Casey doesn’t follow me to campus, but when we go out, she’s around. Oh, speaking of, are you going to the Governor’s Ball?”

Calder groaned and covered his face. “Don’t remind me. It has to be right after finals so I can’t pretend I have to study, and Adele said I have to show up with a date.”

Patrick took that opportunity given to him; his opponent wasn’t paying attention. That meant he had control of the situation, and that’s all combat was, really. Maintaining control. Patrick moved in, swept his foot under Calder’s and sent him sprawling on the mat.

Calder hit the ground with a smack, and stared at Patrick with wide eyes.

Then, his hands balled into fists, and he gritted his teeth. He looked ready to jump up and put a hole through Patrick’s chest. “You,” he said and rolled on his side. He tackled Patrick’s legs, and yanked him down.

A moment later, Calder was on top of him, thighs straddled his hips and biceps trapped Patrick’s head. A vein throbbed in Calder’s forehead, and his chest heaved. He looked like some wild animal that caught it’s prey and was trying to decide what to do with it.

Patrick fought the training that’d been ingrained in his skull for the past ten years. He couldn’t give himself away, especially with Calder acting way too much like Titan for it to be a coincidence. Sure, he didn’t jump to conclusions without solid proof, but when the evidence presented itself like this, he couldn’t ignore it either.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Patrick breathed. His voice didn’t want to work right. Neither did his body. He had no weapons. No space. His fists were useless against someone like Calder (possibly Titan) and none of that mattered when his cock filled with blood at the proximity – the very idea – that Calder might do something unseemly to him.

God, he fucking hoped so. He’d have gotten on his knees and prayed for it, if he were that type.