Again! Again!

by Zach Jenkins

  “As tempting as that sounds, I’ll pass for now. I’m having too much fun watching your butt turn a pretty shade of pink. Stay right there.”

  “Yes, sir,” Inigo said, unable to hold in a chuckle at the formal words.

  He couldn’t believe how much fun he was having with Levi. The sex was hot, obviously, but he enjoyed their little banter almost as much. It was too bad they hadn’t bumped into each other sooner.

  He swayed his hips to bring himself back to the moment.

  Enjoy what you have and don’t worry about what could be.

  One of Levi’s hands squeezed his ass, holding him in place. The firm touch brought the fire back with it.

  “Careful. It burns when you do that. I think I need a fireman to put it out.”

  Levi groaned at the wordplay, but loosened his grip. Before Inigo had the chance to thank him, Levi shoved two well-lubed fingers completely inside him.

  “Fuck.” Inigo kneaded the blanket with his hands, focusing on breathing steadily.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Inigo liked that plan. There was something amazing about being taken control of so roughly by someone who seemed to know exactly which spots to hit.

  Levi’s fingers explored Inigo quickly and thoroughly, preparing him for what was coming next. Inigo didn’t dare let go of the sheets as Levi firmly fingerfucked him, constantly rubbing his prostate, setting off every nerve in his body, making fireworks explode behind his eyelids until he needed release.

  Before Inigo could release the blanket and slide a hand between his legs, Levi pulled his fingers out and immediately replaced it with his huge, hard cock, stretching and filling Inigo like no one else had ever managed to do before.

  Levi’s dick left Inigo with only one thought. “Fuck me, Levi. I need it hard.”

  Levi didn’t reply, but he sure answered convincingly. The bed shook. The headboard banged against the wall. Inigo blushed despite knowing that no one was in the next room. Inigo’s arms grew weary, bracing his body against the onslaught.

  I’ll never forget this man.

  His only regret was that he couldn’t spare a hand to take care of himself. Levi managed to solve that problem, too. Inigo grunted when Levi reached around and started pumping his dick with his calloused hand. There was no mercy or tenderness in his touch.

  There was only raw animal fucking.

  When his orgasm erupted, Inigo screamed at the electricity that exploded across his body. He probably called out Levi’s name. He certainly cursed him.

  No one should be able to fuck so well.

  It’s just not fair that I’ll never see him again.

  Inigo struggled against the overwhelming sensation of Levi’s cock, pounding into him over and over again, pushing him beyond any ability to handle all of the sensations he was feeling while his body tried to recover from his orgasm. He wanted to laugh, and to cry, and to shout lines from The Princess Bride. He knew he was losing his mind a little bit. Every little movement was too much, and too incredible all at once. Inigo didn’t beg Levi to stop, though. He rode out each stroke, wishing it could last forever.

  Levi finally came, and they collapsed in a pile on the bed, facing each other, and exploring each other’s bodies with their hands. Inigo traced the tattoo of a fire axe on Levi’s chest, while Levi traced the unicorn on Inigo’s. He wanted more time to memorize all of the details so he’d never forget the amazing night they’d spent together.

  When they’d both caught their breath, Inigo nudged Levi. “Hey, no dozing off. You’ve got to go somewhere.”

  They both hurried to pack Levi’s things. Neither man spoke. Inigo considered offering to go with Levi to his meeting, but he knew that Levi would just turn him down again. Plus, that felt too real. The night had been too much like a dream to let the real world get mixed up with it.

  When they finished with Levi’s bags, they both went to Inigo’s room to get him ready to leave, too.

  Inigo wanted to ask for Levi’s phone number so he could check in later that night. Instead, he just packed in silence, feeling stupider with each passing second.

  This goodbye is going to be rough, but thank God we had the night together, I guess.

  Levi followed Inigo to his car, looking lost in thought. Inigo would have liked to think it was all about him, but knew he was probably nervous about meeting his kid for the first time.

  “Dude, that’s one ugly car,” Levi said when Inigo unlocked the door and loaded his bags.

  Inigo squinted at his car. He knew his baby-blue 1967 Ford Fairlane Ranchero was an acquired taste, but he didn’t really think it was ugly. “No way. My mullet car’s a classic. Business in the front, party in the back.”

  Levi cocked his head and frowned, but couldn’t help laughing. “I suppose there’s a certain appeal to it. Like it’s so ugly it’s cute, maybe. Definitely one of a kind.”

  Pointlessly arguing about the appeal of his car wasn’t the last memory he wanted to have of Levi, so Inigo changed the subject. “Hey, good luck today. The kid will love you. You’re going to be a great dad.”

  Levi leaned in for one last kiss. “Thanks. If not, I’ll blame you.”

  “I could give you my number so you can call me if you need to…”

  Levi smiled, but shook his head. “We’d just screw it up. We had a deal. One night. No complications. This was perfect. If the Fates ever decide to cross our paths again, though, I’m not letting go.”

  “Agreed,” Inigo said.

  He wrapped his arms around Levi. When Levi returned the hug, the two men stood like that for what felt like forever before Inigo said, “Hey, seriously. When we’re back in our hometowns, if we ever see each other across a crowded room, we need to give us a real chance. It’ll have to be a sign.”

  “Deal.”

  Inigo climbed into his front seat before things got even more painful. As he backed out of the parking spot, he rolled down his window and said, “Goodbye, Levi.”

  While he drove through the parking lot, he tried, without much success, not to look into his rearview mirror.

  5

  Levi

  Levi would have killed for a Styrofoam cup to shred while he waited in the parking lot. He leaned against the back of his rusty car. Worried that having his hands shoved into his pockets made him look too angry and intimidating, he pulled them out and crossed them over his chest. That wasn’t any good, either, so he lowered them to the trunk, and wondered whether the old, crappy car would hurt his chances of being granted parental rights over his own kid. He could afford something better, but he didn’t see the point while it still ran.

  Don’t be stupid. They don’t give a shit about things like that.

  But he didn’t know for certain. It was easy to imagine them inside, peeking out through the tinted windows, and judging him for the rust bucket and his faded, wrinkled t-shirt.

  He was just about to check his phone one more time to see if he had missed a message when the office door opened, and Dorothy waved at him.

  “This way, Mr. Hamilton.”

  Levi didn’t dare tell her to call him by his first name. She could call him Mr. Dipshit, and he would smile and say, “Yes, ma’am.”

  He followed her wordlessly back to her office, but there was no kid there. The only other person in the room was an old, bald man, wearing khakis and a purple polo shirt. The serious expression on his face, and the big gold watch on his wrist, made it look like the outfit was the most casual one he owned.

  “Where’s Daxter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

  Dorothy sat at her desk without answering.

  Instead, it was the man who spoke first. “Please sit down, Mr. Hamilton. Daxter will be here soon. We just need to go over some more paperwork and ask you some questions.”

  “I don’t understand,” Levi said. “I thought you just needed a form and then we were done.”

  “Things are going a little oddly today. We’re rushing a few things that woul
d normally take a couple weeks just to accommodate your limited availability. But Daxter’s foster parents are moving to California next week. That’s why they forgot the form the other day. They’re pretty busy. Anyway, we’d like to avoid placing Daxter in another foster home, or, God forbid, a private agency. So if you can just sit tight, we’ll get through this all as quickly, but as thoroughly, as possible. My name is Judge Danielson. Do you have any ID to confirm your identity?”

  Levi grabbed his wallet and handed his driver’s license to the judge, who glanced at it and gave it right back.

  “Thanks, Levi.” He handed the license back and picked up a stack of papers. “And it says here you are a firefighter? That’s a noble career. How long have you been doing that?”

  An hour later, Levi could barely remember a single question he’d been asked. He’d had to wipe sweat from his forehead many times, and he desperately wanted another shower. Since neither Dorothy nor Mr. Danielson were showing similar symptoms, he knew it wasn’t poor ventilation in the room that was causing the problem.

  When the judge finally leaned back and rubbed his eyes, Levi risked asking, “Are we about done? If not, could we take a break so I can get a drink?”

  Judge Danielson smiled as he stood and patted Levi on the shoulder. “Congrats, my boy, that’s the last of the questions. Dorothy can head home to the quilt she’s surely working on, and I can head out to the golf course and still get in a full round. But you are the one with the really big day ahead of you. Let’s take you down to meet your son.”

  Levi’s mouth went dry, and his hands felt clammy. His heart raced as he followed them down the white hallway that definitely could have used a fresh coat of paint.

  Dorothy stopped in front of an unmarked door. She knocked lightly, opened the door a crack, and cheerily said, “Hello,” before opening the door further.

  Levi followed her into the room, worried that he wasn’t going to be up to the challenge of raising a child, but knowing it was too late to back out now.

  As soon as he saw the kid look up at him with eyes that matched his own, everything changed.

  He was still nearly paralyzed with doubt, but he knew that one way or another, he’d do whatever he could to be a good father to Daxter, and hopefully be a stable rock in his son’s life after years of bouncing from home to home.

  Without waiting for an introduction, Levi sat down on the floor next to where Daxter was playing with toy cars. Levi placed two fingers on the roof of the nearest car and drove it around on the floor, trying to think of what to say.

  “Hi, Daxter. I’m your dad. It’s great to finally meet you.”

  Daxter didn’t bother to smile back. “What should I call you?”

  Levi was unsure how to respond. He shot a look over his shoulder at Dorothy and Judge Danielson.

  The judge cleared his throat, and said, “Daxter, this isn’t another foster parent. Levi Hamilton is your real dad.”

  Daxter appeared to be paying more attention to the cars than the grownups, but still managed to pointedly ask, “Where were you?”

  Levi wanted to cry at the thought of his precious baby wondering where his dad was all his life. Levi had seen Annie a couple times, and was pretty sure all orphans sat around dreaming of their missing parents. Maybe not with all the singing and dancing, but even that made the whole situation worse.

  What do kids like Daxter do for fun while waiting for their parents?

  “I’m sorry, Daxter, but I didn’t even know about you until a couple weeks ago, and then I worked as hard as I could to get to you as fast as possible. I even dragged a judge away from his golf course. Do you have any idea how difficult that is?”

  He’d meant it as a joke, but Daxter either was too young to understand, or too sad to laugh.

  “Where were you? I’m hungry,” Daxter said in a monotone. “Is it lunchtime?”

  A flood of relief swept over Levi.

  He was just talking about being late for lunch, not blaming me for not being a part of his life.

  “Of course, Dax. What do you want?”

  His boy finally smiled. “French fries and a milkshake.”

  Levi glanced at Dorothy, but instead of a critical frown, a smile spread across her face. She nodded vigorously.

  “Sure, Dax. We’ll stop at the first McDonald’s on our way.”

  Daxter hopped up to his feet and clapped. “Where are we going?”

  Levi couldn’t believe how quickly his son’s mood had swung. But he knew that nothing about Daxter should have really surprised him. He couldn’t know anything about his five-year-old son since they’d just met.

  That would come with time, though, and he had plenty of that to look forward to over the years they would have together. He vowed to make up for lost time.

  Levi grabbed Daxter’s duffel bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

  “We’re going home, son. You live in Illinois now.”

  Daxter shocked him by threading his tiny fingers through Levi’s as they headed to the car together.

  6

  Inigo

  Inigo carefully crossed his outside foot inside the other, and pushed hard through the turn. He was breathing hard, and his shirt was soaked with sweat. As he hit the straightaway, he glanced over his shoulder and saw men scattered behind him on the track.

  He ground his toe stop into the hardwood and came to an immediate stop.

  “What the hell?” he shouted. “Stop screwing around. Get up and let’s do it again.”

  “We can’t go on, Captain,” Ezra cried, dramatically covering his face with his forearm. “Every time that ass of yours flexes, we can’t help but stare. How are we supposed to avoid crashing?”

  “Hey,” Clay, his boyfriend, shouted from a few feet away where he was leaning against the railing.

  “Sorry,” Ezra said, but with a smile mouthed, “Not sorry,” to Inigo and made the signal with his hand for Inigo to call him.

  Inigo rolled his eyes at Ezra’s faux-attempt to make Clay jealous. Anyone within twenty miles of the two men knew just how much they loved each other because Ezra never hesitated to tell anyone.

  Ezra’s silliness was adorable except when Inigo needed to get his derby team to focus.

  “On your feet, fellas,” Inigo said, the hard edge already gone from his voice. He didn’t even bother making another crack about how helpful it would be if the guys on the team could get their much larger boyfriends to join the team. That ship had sailed long ago. “If we want to beat the Chick Magnets, we’re going to have to practice.”

  Maxwell pushed himself to his feet and adjusted his elbow pads. “We could practice every second between now and the bout, and we’re still going to get crushed. We couldn’t even beat that team in Indiana last month, and they were pretty terrible.”

  Inigo frowned, remembering how close they’d been to their first victory, and how he’d blown it for his team. The wound from that loss still hadn’t healed.

  Quinn rolled onto his side and propped up on his elbow. “Let’s call this practice over with and have a quick beer.”

  “Okay,” Inigo conceded. “How about instead of a quick beer here, we all go out to a club instead and party? We could use all the team building we can get.”

  The prospect of some drinking, a little dancing, and maybe finding someone to take home with him for a whole lot of fucking later sounded perfect to Inigo.

  Quinn shook his head. “The rest of the guys can go, but I have to get home before I need to pay the babysitter for an extra hour. I only have time for one drink here.”

  The rest of the team quickly made their excuses for why they couldn’t go out either.

  “Ouch, I expected this from the rest of this motley crew, but you stuck the knife the deepest,” Inigo said, reaching out a hand to help Quinn up.

  Quinn had worked at the roller rink for several months while looking for a new teaching job. Inigo knew someone with Quinn’s background wouldn’t stay working at the rink for l
ong, but it had still been sad to see him go. The team had been a great way to keep him in touch with all of Quinn’s friends that Inigo had met before Quinn had landed a full-time teaching job.

  “Yeah, well, kids don’t raise themselves these days,” Quinn replied. “Maybe you should have one and we’ll have more chances to hang out together.”

  “Guys, great practice,” Inigo lied, switching the topic away from his pathetic personal life. “Before you all leave, drinks are on me.” When the men cheered a little too boisterously, Inigo quickly added, “One drink is on me. Just one.”

  The team quickly skated to the edge of the rink, sat down to remove their skates, and chatted about their plans for the rest of the week.

  “Hey, Inigo, can I talk to you?” a voice called from just behind him. “In your office?”

  Inigo sighed.

  Everyone else went silent.

  Inigo had dated Riley Mack for a couple months. Inigo hadn’t loved Riley, or even particularly liked him most of the time, but having someone to reliably go on dates with had been nice. Riley had called things off before their big derby road trip weekend, but somehow still had managed to sound offended when Inigo had agreed that maybe they shouldn’t see each other anymore.

  Inigo did not have any better options; he just genuinely didn’t want anything more to do with Riley.

  He smiled at the memory of the night with Levi that felt so much longer than just three weeks ago. If only that could have worked out as more than a one-night stand.

  Whatever. That one night with Levi was better than my whole time with Riley.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Riley.”

  When Inigo turned to lead the team to the bar in the roller rink, Riley grabbed his arm. “You need to talk to me sometime, Go.”

  Inigo hated the nickname even more than being called Inigo Montoya. “No we don’t, Riley. I have nothing to say. You dumped me. I’m fine with it. This is the part where we both move on with our lives.”