Carving

Wade was beaming at him. “Ye’re doin’ so well, pretty lily!”

“Y-ya think?” Jamie stammered. It was hard to keep his hands steady when the knife kept glinting at him with each stroke.

“Yeah! That’s a mighty good lookin’ duck!”

Right, he had tried making a duck head. Wade had said it would be something simple, not a full body of anything or something easy to nick his fingers on. It didn’t look fantastic, lots of divots and cuts in the neck and the beak was too thick, but he had made something, hadn’t he?

“Ducks are weird, this doesn’t look that bad,” Jamie laughed shakily. It was more to himself than to Wade, something to keep him on his feet. He had stood up from his stool after his legs had started going numb, and now his knees wouldn’t bend.

“Duck ‘re evil,” the grizzled man huffed. “Hate them things.”

Teal eyes glanced at Wade. The grizzled woodworker was carefully shaving off a piece from his carving, a little bird, with great concentration. The shaggy brows were furrowed as he kept moving his carving knife. Shavings were sprinkled in his beard and against the dark blue fabric of his shirt, the old sweater peppered with paint stains and wood.

He set his rickety carving and knife against the table. “Is that hatred because one went after you the other day when you came out to see me for my morning swim?” Jamie asked, snickering.

“It was a full body attack!” Wade exclaimed, whipping his head at Jamie. “That thing came at me wantin’ me dead! Ya heard it honkin’ fer my blood!”

“I mean, you kinda came stompin’ near one of its babies.”

“Jamie, ya end up eatin’ half them babies whenever spring comes ‘round, don’ act like I did somethin’ wrong ‘ere!”

Jamie jerked his head over with a gasp, gaping. “I do not eat baby ducks!” he squealed. “That’s cruel even for me!”

Wade paused in his carving, looking at Jamie with a flat expression and stiff lip.

The spunky man popped his lips loudly for a few seconds. “...I wait for them to be adults,” he said after a moment. “Give me some credit.”

“Credit fer eatin’ the wildlife,” Wade said blandly, but a smile curved the edges of his lips.

“Credit for saving your life!” Jamie responded curtly. He snatched up his tool and wood with full offense. “I’m preventing future duck attacks!”

“An’ frog attacks. An’ fish attacks. An’ squirrel attacks. An’-”

“This is the respect I get for defending our home from bloodthirsty creatures,” Jamie sniffled, pouting.

“Oh, quit bein’ a baby,” Wade dismissed with a chuckle. “Ye’re actin’ like ye’re our first line o’ defense er somethin’.”

“I’m not?!”

“Amelia is.”

“I’m reduced to the last line of defense by a chicken?”

“Uh… I wouldn’t say that either, Jay.”

Teal eyes turned back to Wade, burning holes into the grizzled man. “I’ll eat this wooden duck right now.”

Wade snorted. “If ya wanna choke, go ahead. I haven’t done that hay-licker thing in forever, ya ain’ gonna make it if ya do.”

A long pause.

“I win everything by default because you called it a hay-licker,” Jamie said simply.

“Ya don’ win nothin’,” Wade grumbled, flushing.

“Yeah, yeah,” the spunky man mumbled, grinning.

It only took a slight wiggle of Jamie’s wrist for the edge of his carving knife to lodge back into the wood. He wasn’t doing it completely right, he knew that from Wade, but the seasoned woodworker mainly left him alone on the faults that didn’t risk hurting him.

“Think I’m getting better,” Jamie murmured as he brushed off another shaving.

“Ya sure are, pretty lily!” Wade chirped, grinning toothily at him.

I’m ok. I’ve got control, it’s my knife and I’m moving it. I’m ok. Yeah, I’m totally ok.

A small curve in the wrong direction, and suddenly Jamie couldn’t move it. The knife was stuck mid-carve in the neck.

“Shit,” wheezed through his clenching teeth.

It didn’t take long for Jamie’s anxiety to grip him again. Jamie swallowed. It would mess up his already awful duck if he pulled it back, but if he pushed it forward he could cut himself. He really didn’t want to get cut, he didn’t want to be cut open like those fish in butcher shops and grocery stores. He wasn’t some fish caught by a dumb fisherman, he wasn’t somebody else’s meal or anything, he was still here and standing and…

“I’ll slice you open, fish boy!”

Calloused hands cupped around the soft, shaky ones. It jerked him out of the horrible memories, back to himself and into Wade’s shed. Warmth and weight was against his back, the smell of burnt wood and coffee curling comfortably around him. “Lemmie help ya, pretty lily,” Wade said, voice rumbling against Jamie’s back.

Wade’s thumb was thick, settling over top of Jamie’s as a shield as he used the other to push the carving knife through the wood. The shaving rolled off and bounced onto the table.

“See? Ye’re alright.” Plush lips pressed against his temple, shaggy beard scratching against sweaty skin. “No harm done ta ya.”

His heart kept pounding. Jamie swallowed again, struggling as his dry throat constricted.

“I’ll let ya get back to it, alright?” The strong hands carefully pulled back. “Jus’ take it easy, Jay.”

The knife clattered against the table the moment the pressure of Wade’s hands left.

Forest eyes darted to his face, wide. “Ja-?”

“I-I think I’m done,” Jamie managed to wheeze out. His fingers felt frozen in place.

A calloused hand was swift in taking the knife out of his sight. “I got it,” Wade assured. “It’s gone, Jay, it’s alrigh’.”

Jamie nodded, smiling as best as he could. His legs felt like they were about to give out and his entire body was trembling.

A stool scratched quietly against the floor. Wade sat with a small grunt, knees cracking faintly at the movement. “C'mere, pretty lily,” he murmured softly, reaching an arm around Jamie’s waist.

“Thanks,” Jamie croaked, easily melting against him. His legs dangled over the thick of Wade’s thigh, fingers gripping the dirty shirt.

Warmth from Wade’s palm cupped his face. “Ya did so well, I’m proud o’ ya,” Wade praised quietly. He kissed the top of the sweaty hair, smiling warmly. “Jus’ take it easy, Jay, ye’re alright.”

Jamie did his best to slowly breathe. It was grounding, the strong smells that made up Wade and the steady beat of a loving heart against his ear. A calloused thumb was stroking his cheek, a large palm spread against his back. Wade’s cheek was against the top of his head, pressing against the sweaty locks of brunet and blond.

“So proud o’ my pretty lily,” the grizzled man whispered. “My gorgeous water lily makin’ all sorts o’ pretty things wit’ ‘is ‘ands an’ lookin’ all pretty while doin’ it.”

Jamie couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah, I’m really pretty,” he managed to say, his voice raspy.

“I hope you showin’ off yer ego means ye’re gettin’ better,” Wade said softly.

He felt a little better, but… “I…”

“Ya wan’ yer pond?”

A small nod. He wanted to swim around until all the anxiety was flushed out of his body. He needed to feel the water against his skin and wash the anxious sweat out of his hair.

“Alrighty, I’ll get ya up an’ inta yer pond, pretty lily. Anythin’ else ya need?”

Was there anything else he needed other than some more of Wade’s love and his pond?

“Hmm…” Wade tucked a strand of hair away from Jamie’s face. “Ya ‘aven’ eaten since we came out. Ya hungry?”

Being reminded of hunger suddenly had his stomach grumbling. “Starving,” Jamie whined. “Being anxious makes me super hungry.”

Wade chuckled softly. “I bet. How ‘bout I get a snack fer ya from the fridge while ya swim a little?” he offered.

A thankful, guttural groan left Jamie’s mouth.

“Assumin’ ya wan’ somethin’ meaty?”

“Please.”

Wade slowly stood up, careful in moving Jamie with him. His arms stayed firm around the thin body, holding the smaller close to him. “I think we got some steaks in there, but Cole ‘asn’ cooked ‘em yet.”

“I’m too anxious to beg,” Jamie mumbled. He really wanted a steak, he deserved one for the anguish he just went through and the awful tingling the anxiety was giving him.

“Ya don’ need ta beg, pretty lily, Cole won’ be upset when I tell ‘im.” Wade smiled warmly down at him. “I’ll get ya the biggest one while ya swim fer a bit in yer pond, alright?”

Jamie could’ve purred. “You’re the best, Wadey,” he said, smiling weakly against the soft chest.