Queermance Anthology, Volume 2

by Queermance Anthology- Volume 2 [MM-FF] (retail) (epub)

  By the end of the class, he was fuming.

  ‘I don’t like that guy,’ he muttered, once the three new black belts had left the dojang and were out of earshot.

  ‘But he’s so pretty,’ Maddie pouted.

  ‘Only you would say that to describe a guy who looks like a tank,’ Rob countered, an edge of sulkiness to his voice that Sam suspected to stem from Maddie’s interest rather than any lingering annoyance at Xander’s earlier behaviour.

  Sam’s dislike of the new instructor only solidified as classes continued. The next few weeks were the same as the first, with Xander ignoring Sam entirely whenever he was leading the group. Then one night out of nowhere, during pattern practice, he felt a large hand adjusting his blocking arm. No words were spoken, that was all - a silent acknowledgement. If Sam had thought that things would improve from that point, however, he was wrong. Instead, the problem became annoyingly reversed. Each class it seemed that Xander noticed more and more little errors in Sam’s form that had to be corrected, so that he seemed to be constantly hovering, ready to either make suggestions in his low, emotionless voice, or physically move Sam’s limbs into the preferred positions with his hands.

  It was true that Sam was new to the black belt classes, having only just graded up the term before, but he was sure his form wasn’t as bad as Xander made it out to be. If he lacked anything, it was power, but certainly not speed or accuracy. He was the most flexible young man in the class, even more than most of the women, and his kicks were beautifully high and well-placed, or so he had been told by his other teachers and classmates. He’d risen easily through the colour belts in two and a half years, and trained hard to earn the black while constantly being told he was a natural in Taekwondo. All this criticism now, especially when it came so specifically to him and so regularly, felt like a slap in the face.

  Sam could not deny that Xander knew what he was talking about. His demonstrations were breathtaking, every kick, every jump, every movement was perfect, and, except when he was moving slowly for demonstration purposes, he was remarkably quick for someone of his stocky build. He didn’t perform to show off, either; he never did more than was required for the purposes of instruction. In that respect, he was a very good instructor, even if he brooked no chatting or messing about while he was teaching. But as the end of the term grew nearer, it got to the point where Sam tried to find positions on the mat as far away from him as possible, so that he could get on with his training without being interrupted every five seconds for yet another adjustment.

  ‘You’d think there was no one else in the class,’ he complained to Rob in the men’s changing room at the end of one particularly gruelling session, aggressively shoving his sweaty clothes into his gym bag. He preferred to go straight home these days and shower there, instead of hanging about to chat. He had been quite social during his colour belt training; now he dreaded running into Xander outside of training hours.

  Rob, who had become just as annoyed as his partner was at the regular interruptions to their training, nodded as he followed him out the door. ‘I’m telling you, it’s the Asian thing,’ he insisted.

  Sam made a face at that. ‘I don’t think it is,’ he said, although privately he almost wished it was. At least then there’d be some kind of reason for it. A shitty reason, but still. ‘He doesn’t pick on any of the others.’

  ‘They’re all girls,’ Rob pointed out, referring to the one Chinese and two Malaysian black belts in the class. ‘Probably he thinks he’ll get complaints if he harasses them.’

  ‘I can’t complain,’ Sam sighed. ‘What would I say - oh, he’s teaching me too much? See how well that goes down.’

  Despite the three nights a week he spent suffering under the yoke of an unfair master, the term passed astonishingly quickly. Nearing the end of his third year of uni, he was concentrating more on his studies than his training anyway, after all the work he’d done last year to reach black belt level. It was strange not to have a grading at the end of the term, either, since it took much longer to grade for dan black belt levels than the geup colour belt levels. Instead, Maddie suggested the three of them go out for a drink after the second-to-last class of term before Christmas.

  ‘I can’t stay too long,’ Sam said as they found a table. It was a busy city club and bar, the kind to make a country boy a little nervous. ‘I have exams on Monday.’

  ‘Oh come on Sammy,’ Maddie said, rolling her eyes. ‘You look like you could do with a little fun, just saying.’

  Sam frowned at her. Not only did he not understand what she meant by that comment, but he disliked “Sammy” immensely. He was distracted almost immediately, however, by Rob’s stifled groan. ‘What is he doing here?’ he heard his friend muttering.

  ‘Oh, I invited him.’ Maddie looked smug, even as Sam turned his head to see what they were talking about.

  ‘You what?’ Rob hissed. ‘And he said yes??’

  ‘Well, not at first,’ she admitted, ‘But then I told him you guys were coming too, and he seemed okay with it. I still wasn’t sure he’d show.’

  Sam had to wonder in that moment why he himself had agreed to come. The man walking towards them through the growing crowd was none other than his Taekwondo Instructor. The idea of spending a social evening with Xander made him want to fake a sudden and possibly mortal illness in order to make good his escape before things could get any more awkward.

  ‘Xander, hey!’ Maddie exclaimed, giving him a hug as he reached their table. Sam’s eyes widened at her daring, but the big man did not protest, merely returned the gesture by patting her lightly on the shoulder. He did not smile, but Sam wasn’t surprised. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the man smile. ‘So happy you came!’

  ‘I hope I’m not intruding.’ The gruff voice sent a shiver down Sam’s spine - he flashed back internally to all the times he’d heard it suddenly in his ear, usually saying things like your balance is off, make sure you sight the target. Even though he knew it was coming, it still made him jump. For such a big man, Xander could move like a cat.

  ‘Of course not. I’ll get drinks,’ Maddie announced. ‘What do you all want?’

  ‘No, I’ll get it,’ Sam said quickly, practically climbing over Rob to get out of his seat. No way was he getting left alone with Xander with only Rob as a buffer. ‘No, no, it’s okay,’ he insisted, when it looked like she would argue, ‘I’ll get it. Er. Rob?’

  ‘Beer,’ Rob said flatly. No doubt he was having a similar internal crisis, and wishing he had insisted on getting the drinks himself. Sam refused to feel sorry for him. It wasn’t Rob that Xander had a problem with, after all.

  ‘Get us a cranberry breezer?’ Maddie said.

  ‘Eugh.’

  ‘Shut up, Rob,’ she snapped.

  Sam waited anxiously for the newcomer to speak. He heard nothing and was forced to turn and look Xander in the face. ‘You want something?’ he asked, his voice coming out a little higher than he would have liked.

  The man shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting up and down like a tumultuous mountain range. ‘Not for me, thank you,’ he said gruffly.

  Sam blinked. What sort of person agreed to come out for drinks with a group of people he barely knew and then didn’t order anything? He could see Rob making an incredulous face behind Xander’s back, and Maddie was looking about as puzzled as he felt. He considered repeating the offer, but then he remembered that he was trying to escape the situation. ‘Okay then,’ he said, and fled the scene.

  He caught his breath while he was waiting at the bar, hardly noticing the smiles of the slight, blond barman who took his order. What was it about Xander that riled him so, he wondered? Other than the fact that he was a total wanker, obviously. And what was he doing here? Was he interested in Maddie? It seemed the most likely scenario, but something told him there was a hole in that theory, somewhere���

  The drinks were handed to him on a tray with another smile, which he returned only shakily, and he stepped away f
rom the bar only to come face to face with the object of his frenzied consideration. He almost dropped the tray. Xander reached out to help steady it. ‘Sorry,’ the big man said, in a tone of voice that was so different to his usual monotone that Sam forgot to be on edge for a second.

  ‘That’s okay,’ he said, automatically. ‘You change your mind?’

  The corner of one side of Xander’s mouth twitched. ‘That’s what I told your friends,’ he admitted, ‘But actually I just wanted to talk to you, for a minute. If that’s all right?’ he added. He sounded serious, but then, he always did.

  ‘Oh.’ Sam blinked, utterly nonplussed. ‘Er… okay, I guess…’

  Xander took the tray from him easily and handed it to a passing waiter, pointing out the table it belonged to. Before it left his reach, he plucked Sam’s Diet Coke from it and handed it to him. ‘Not drinking?’ he asked, gruffly.

  Sam looked from his glass, to Xander, and back, and shook his head. ‘Exams,’ he explained shortly.

  Xander nodded understanding and turned slightly, leading him to a slightly quieter area near the back of the bar. ‘Good on you. What are you studying?’

  Sam blinked. ‘Third year medicine,’ he said, on autopilot.

  Xander’s eyes widened noticeably, his forehead wrinkling under the buzzcut. ‘Right. So definitely not drinking, then.’

  Was that a joke? Sam found himself relaxing a little, even allowing the corners of his mouth to suggest a smile. The man was only human after all, even if he was terrifying. It turned out he even had some kind of interest in other people’s lives. How awkward could it really be?

  Xander cleared his throat into his closed fist, a sound that, from him, was audible even over the noise of the bar. ‘What I wanted to say was���’ he seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze fixed somewhere behind Sam’s ear. Then he looked back at him, refocused, and cleared his throat again. ‘That is, I wanted to apologise for how I acted when we first met. I know I came off like a dickhead.’

  Ah. So that was how awkward it could get. Sam’s mouth dropped open, and it was a second or two before he thought to close it again. Thinking about the long-ago incident made him shudder inwardly with discomfort, but��� ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed,’ he said honestly, once he’d got his bearings. ‘Why didn’t you say something back then?’

  Xander winced. ‘Nadine was right there,’ he pointed out. ‘I didn’t want to fuck it up on the first day. Or at least make it really obvious that I fucked up.’

  ‘But���’ Sam forged on, ‘Then you just ignored me for the next hour…’

  ‘Did I?’ Xander spoke with what sounded like genuine confusion, but Sam could imagine he saw something resembling guilt in that hard-lined face. ‘I’m sorry. I was a bit ashamed of myself after that introduction. I’d just moved back here from Korea, and when I saw you I thought maybe I’d found… a kindred spirit.’

  Sam frowned with interest. ‘You lived in Korea?’

  ‘Studied there for a while. Got my fourth dan.’

  Sam whistled. ‘No wonder Linda hired you! How long were you there for?’

  ‘About four years.’ Xander’s lips twitched again. Sam was almost certain it was meant to be a smile this time. ‘It’s been a while since I was back home for real, though. I travelled around a lot, in the army.’ Small pieces gradually began falling into place as Sam listened. The army certainly explained a lot. That totally deadpan expression, for one thing. ‘Anyway,’ the big man went on, ‘Just wanted to explain things. I know I’ve been riding you a lot lately, but���’ a brief hesitation, ‘You’re one of the best in that class, you know. Especially for a cho dan. With a little extra training you could be ready for nationals.’

  Sam felt his face heat and shook his head quickly. ‘I’m not really into competition,’ he said quickly. ‘I mostly do it because I hate going to the gym, and I like the people, and the challenge of it. And it’s good for balance, too,’ he added, wondering how one stopped oneself from rambling once they got started. ‘And stretching, and stuff….’

  ‘You don’t need any help with that,’ Xander said, and something in his deep voice made Sam shudder inwardly, though he wasn’t sure why or whether it was a good or a bad feeling. ‘How did you get to be so flexible?’

  Sam swallowed. ‘Er. Well, I did dance in high school.’

  He thought he was starting to be able to read the minute subtleties in the man’s expression. Xander looked surprised, but pleased for some reason. ‘Ah, I see,’ he said, with apparent interest. ‘Was that here in Melbourne?’

  ‘In the country,’ Sam corrected. ‘Wangaratta.’

  ‘That’s far away. Do you go back much?’

  ‘Sometimes. Not often,’ he explained. ‘It’s expensive, and pretty much all my parents have is going into my uni fees, and that’s after my scholarship and HECs and everything. My dad works on a farm up there and my mum cleans in local supermarkets. I mostly stay here and study. Me being a doctor is my dad’s dream. It’s all he’s ever wanted for me. I can’t let him down now.’

  Xander looked thoughtful. Sam, thinking back on his own words, wondered what had caused him to say all that when it hadn’t, after all, really been part of the question.

  ‘What about your dream?’ Xander asked eventually.

  It was a simple enough thing to say, but Sam felt a shiver go down his spine. ‘I��� wanted to dance,’ he said honestly, with only the barest trace of regret in his voice. ‘But Taekwondo a few times a week is the next best thing. Not everyone can have their dream,’ he added, with a firmness that he hoped would discourage any further argument.

  Xander looked for a moment as though he might like to say something else, then his gaze flickered again to something behind Sam’s shoulder, and his expression settled once more into the hard, blank military mask that was so familiar.

  ‘What?’ Sam asked, feeling the hairs prickle on the back of his neck but sensing instinctively that he ought not turn around. Despite this, he was peripherally aware of a door opening and shutting somewhere behind him.

  Xander said nothing, but moved forward around Sam and headed to the door marked “Exit - Staff Only” behind the toilets. Sam turned with him, watching his retreating back, but he saw nothing else that was out of the ordinary. He glanced back quickly to see if Rob or Maddie were looking for him - he caught a glimpse of them on the small raised dance floor, laughing while bopping up and down, apparently determined to have a good time despite his absence and oblivious to anything untoward. When he looked back, Xander was slipping through the door. Making a hasty decision, Sam put his untouched glass of Coke on an empty side table and hurried after him.

  Sam, too, could move silently when he wanted; his lean frame and naturally light step made it easy. He slipped through the crowd to the door and came out into the alley at the back of the bar, amid the warm damp of the evening November air. Xander’s broad shoulders were just outside the doorway, blocking his view slightly, but if Sam ducked to one side he could just see through to where there were shapes of four people, further down the alleyway. In fact, he saw as he slipped silently up to Xander’s side, there were three men advancing on a fourth, smaller man, who was doing his best to back away from them in the confined space. You did not have to be completely streetwise to sense that something was very wrong.

  Xander didn’t look around, but he seemed to know instinctively that Sam was there. ‘Stay with me,’ he commanded, very low.

  Later, Sam wondered why he hadn’t objected to being given orders, or at least given any thought to doing anything other than what Xander told him to. In the moment, however, no such thought occurred to him. He stood forward when Xander did, heart pounding but focused, braced and ready.

  ‘Some kind of problem here?’ Xander asked, in a deadly calm voice. The three men turned to glare at him. They were all tall white Aussies, wearing beer-stained singlets over tattooed, brawny arms. Sam could tell immediately that they were all drunk as wel
l, but that wasn’t the worst of it; as Xander stepped forward away from the door, one of them moved a hand, and there was a glint of sharp metal in it.

  ‘None of your fuckin’ business,’ one of the others sneered nastily, in an accent so thick and bogan it was practically staggering around on its own drunken legs. He had thick tattoos creeping out from under the neckline of his singlet right up his throat to the edge of his jaw. The fourth, smaller man, who appeared to be one of the bar workers, backed off, looking terrified; he was slim, and blond, and Sam recognised the barman who had smiled at him earlier in the evening.

  ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here.’ Xander nodded pointedly towards the “Staff Only” sign above the big wheelie bins.

  ‘Fuck off,’ snapped the one with the knife, ‘or I’ll cut your fuckin’ eyes out.’

  Uh oh, Sam thought, in a brief moment of cognisant hysteria. We are really not in the country anymore, Toto.

  ‘I think you guys need to head home,’ Xander said, still cool as anything. Turning to the barman he added. ‘Mate, you better go back inside.’

  The barman nodded quickly and attempted to step towards them, but the third aggressor, whose grey singlet was patched with dark sweat under his arms, moved to block his path. At the same time, without warning, the man with the knife launched himself at Xander. It seemed to happen in the space of a split second, but Xander’s arm shot out, blocked the arm wielding the knife, and his other arm swung up and forward in a punch to the throat that sent the man staggering back, gargling.

  The other two men finally caught up to what was happening and came to their friend’s aid - but Sam was in their way. He shifted automatically into fighting stance, one leg slightly bent and behind him, his hands fisted and at the ready. When the man with the tattoos came forward, Sam spun on his front leg, the back foot coming up and landing a roundhouse easily to the side of the man’s head. Sweat-stains, coming up just behind him, got treated to an elbow to the face before Sam tugged him down by the shoulders, slamming his knee into the attacker’s groin and elbowing him hard in the back of his neck, driving him to his knees.