Jack’s grin widened when Gabe laughed. Self-deprecating humor was Jack’s secret weapon. Nothing disarmed serious guys quite like Jack poking fun at himself. (Women, not so much, but that was a discussion for another time.) He knew it only worked in part because he was also handsome – if not, it probably would’ve just come off as sad – and because it was a convenient gloss over some of the bigger issues that became a whole lot clearer once things shifted from fun and sexy to (gulp) serious and committed.
Injury notwithstanding, it’d been a while since Jack had been in an actual relationship. The last one hadn’t ended too well, and the idea of entering into a new one was just about the last thing he wanted. Especially when it was so easy to stay in an endless cycle of brief flings with as many people as possible. Jack wasn’t mercenary about his aversion to long-term relationships like a lot of men, because in the end? It was better for all those people if he didn’t stick around. He messed things up every time.
Those thoughts were far from his mind, for once. Right now, it was just nice to make a hot guy laugh after he had a bad night.
And it sure didn’t suck that that was all it took to get Gabe to loosen up enough to flirt a little, too.
“Ah, you got me.” Jack held up his hands in mock surrender. “I thought if I called you handsome, Sleeping Beauty over there might wake up in a fit of jealousy and deal me another one of these tragically provocative scars.”
Jack’s tone shifted to something more openly arch than before, accentuated by a knowing look. It was hard not to notice all of Jack’s scars, but most people tried not to look too closely once they saw them for fear of being rude. Not Gabe. He saw them and he looked. Jack had suspicions earlier, but having those suspicions confirmed was more than a little satisfying.
Gabe was definitely into him. Which left only one course of action to explore for the rest of the time they had together tonight.
Looking down at his chest, Jack pulled down the collar of his shirt and pointed to a particularly ragged scar just below his collarbone. “This one is Matt’s fault, actually. We were fighting this Resistance cell that had one of those crazy knife-throwers, could’ve been Bullseye for I know, and well. Long story short? Matt ducked, I didn’t.”
Jack shrugged like it was no big deal, even though that particular knife had gotten dangerously close to puncturing his lung. If it’d been a little longer, there was no guarantee Jack would’ve been sitting here now, but after a while those kinds of injuries and the mental trauma that accompanied them tended to blend together, for better or worse.
Still, he had plenty more stories where that came from, and they had a lot of time to kill. What better way to spend it showing off in a way only a Camelot Combat veteran could, with the added bonus of showing off in a way someone like Gabe could fully appreciate?
“Oh, hey, and this one, now that’s a funny story…”