Indigo Knights: The Boxed Set

by Jet Mykles

  “Yeah.” Izzy gripped Rabin’s wrist with one hand and reached the other back to grab the headboard. With Rabin to balance him, he was able to lift up and drop down with precision, hitting something inside himself that made his slim body shudder. “Oh fuck yeah.”

  Rabin bit into Izzy’s neck and kept an arm around him. He muttered encouragement into Izzy’s ear while he licked the shell of it, then sucked in the lobe with its single hoop. As Izzy grew frantic, Rabin slipped his hand down to find Izzy’s dick.

  With a squeal, Izzy arched into his hand, nearly dragging his ass off Rabin’s cock. “Oh fuck. Rabin!”

  Rabin shoved him back down, securing him with one arm while pulling on his dick with the other. Seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

  “Rabin.” Izzy struggled, moving his hips as best he could. Rabin let up to give Izzy a little more freedom, rewarded when Izzy found a gorgeous rocking motion that worked his ass on Rabin’s cock and worked his cock through Rabin’s fist.

  “Oh. Ah!”

  Rabin hardly realized when his free hand came up to curl around Izzy’s throat, but he saw the result. His hold pinned Izzy’s skull to Rabin’s shoulder, Izzy’s temple pressed to Rabin’s throat. The arch of his body gave Rabin a clear sight of the curve of his flat chest, smooth skin sheened with sweat. Even pinned, Izzy continued to rock his hips, frantically seeking release. Rabin even found his own hips trying to help, trying to shove his cock even deeper into Izzy’s body.

  Then Izzy shattered. A sharp cry deafened Rabin as the body in his hold jerked and shuddered. Spurt after spurt of thick, hot wetness coated Rabin’s hand. Most importantly, the sheath around Rabin’s cock clutched and gripped him, blinding him with sensation.

  Izzy collapsed back into him, breathing hard, skin hot and flushed. Rabin held him as he calmed, loving the rhythmic squeeze of Izzy’s ass on his cock. Rabin eased the hold on Izzy’s neck to let him move his head, which he did, rolling his skull so he could nuzzle underneath Rabin’s jaw. When Izzy noted the tension, he stopped. “You didn’t come.”

  Rabin gave one curt shake of his head, caught with an orgasm that wanted to explode but couldn’t. “Don’t think I can like this.” It felt great, right on the brink of coming, but it was also torture. He knew he had to move but oddly didn’t want to.

  “Good to know,” Izzy murmured. Then, without warning, he pushed forward, breaking Rabin’s grip. Rabin yelped and grabbed for him, but his sweaty skin proved slippery, and he scrambled free.

  Rabin’s hips rose, free of the weight that had held them down. His being protested the loss of warmth. “Hey.”

  Ignoring Rabin’s protest, Izzy spun around and proved stronger than he looked by grabbing Rabin’s legs and yanking him down so that he was half lying in the pillows. Rabin hadn’t accustomed himself to the new position before Izzy was on him, hovering over his cock. The condom was quickly removed and tossed, and then Izzy’s mouth sucked him down.

  “Christ! Fuck!”

  Izzy’s touch lit the short fuse on Rabin’s orgasm. Shouting, Rabin arched, sensation rocketing through and out of him. Izzy swallowed it all down.

  “Fuck.” Eyes closed, panting, Rabin tried to catch his breath, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Fuck.”

  The bed jostled, but Rabin couldn’t tell what Izzy was doing. “Good?”

  “Oh man.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  A sheet and the light cover settled over Rabin’s hips and legs mere seconds before they lifted once more to allow a warm body to wiggle in next to him. Rabin managed to drop his head to the side and open his eyes to see Izzy on his belly, tucking a pillow under his head. Dark eyes shone with joy as they focused on him. Rabin smiled. Izzy smiled.

  Rabin must have fallen asleep then, because he couldn’t remember any more.

  Chapter Six

  Beer bottles clinked together in a toast.

  “You done well, my brutha,” Zane complimented before taking a sip.

  Rabin nodded, glancing around the living room that now had furniture. True, a lot of it was old and ratty, but it was familiar. “Yep. It’s a nice place. There’s a great bar down the street too.”

  “Music? Women?”

  “Yes and yes. They’ve got a stage but don’t use it much. The owner seemed open to it, though.” He laughed as he dropped onto the couch. “She’s pretty too.”

  “Oh?” Zane perched on the couch’s arm. “Do tell.”

  “Just your type: blonde, busty, and been around the block.”

  “Sounds perfect. We should go tonight.”

  Rabin sighed. “Tonight? Oh man, I’m beat. Don’t you have to turn in the van tomorrow morning?”

  “Not due until noon.” Zane slid from the arm to the seat, one knee bent so he could face Rabin. “C’mon, this is my first night in Chicago.”

  Rabin grinned at his friend. Zane had hardly changed in all the time Rabin had known him. Dirty-blond hair, thick with an insane kink that made it stick out from his head in tight curls. Even long as it was now, the ringlets kept it around shoulder length, with the sheer weight of hair making it straight around the part at the top of his head. Zane thought it made him look like Robert Plant; Rabin privately thought he looked like a poodle. But Zane had a good face and a big mouth that smiled a lot. He currently sported a rugged look with a perpetual shadow over his square chin. Today his blue eyes were bright and cheerful, a far cry from the dark and depressed they’d been toward the end of last year.

  “All right. We’ll go.” Again they toasted with their beers. “But we both need to shower.”

  Zane plucked at his open flannel shirt. “Yeah, I’m rank. Mind if I go first? Driving all day…”

  “Have at. Then we can go get something to eat.”

  “It’s a plan.” Zane used his bottle to point at Rabin as he stood, then took the bottle with him down the short hall to the bathroom at the end.

  Rabin stayed where he was, content to rest after a day of hauling furniture up three flights of stairs. Not that either he or Zane had much. Zane’s futon, the couch, and the matching chairs were the big-ticket items. Rabin’s bed wouldn’t arrive until the next day. Feeling the springs of the old couch, he suddenly missed the bed he’d had at Brent’s.

  That wasn’t the only thing he’d miss. Rabin stared at his beer bottle as he picked at the label. He’d miss Izzy. He couldn’t believe how rough it had been to pack the night before, after they’d spent a surreal weekend in and out of bed. Izzy had even gone shopping with him for a new mattress. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d slept with a guy. Had a harder time realizing that he really wanted to do it again. Really. He grinned. He might not believe it, but he certainly liked it. He glanced toward the bathroom, just able to spy it as Zane closed the door. “And what would you say to that, buddy?” he asked in a low tone. He shook his head. They’d deal with that later. Or never.

  A knock sounded at the front door. Thinking it was the friendly guy down the hall they’d met earlier, Rabin answered without checking through the peephole. Because of that, he was surprised to see Izzy standing in the hall. He must have just come from school, because he wasn’t wearing anything loud or tight. Rather, he looked almost sedate in a simple dark green T-shirt and jeans, with his dark hair pulled back in a tail.

  Rabin’s grin was instantaneous, his heart thumping up in his throat. “Hey.”

  Izzy grinned too, holding up a long dish covered in tinfoil. “I brought you dinner.”

  “What?” Rabin stepped back as Izzy pushed past him.

  “I figured you guys were working hard all day, and I was off today, so I made you food. Since you wouldn’t let me come and help”—he threw a glare over his shoulder as he rounded the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area—“this was the best I could do.” He looked out over the spacious living room. “Oh hey, nice place.”

  “Thanks.” Rabin glanced toward the bathroom as he approached the counter. Was he ready for Zane
to meet Izzy? Not really, but looked like he wasn’t going to have the choice. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

  Izzy tucked a wayward wisp of hair behind his ear. “Did you eat?”

  “We were going to go out.”

  “Now you can save some money.”

  Rabin narrowed his eyes and couldn’t help another glance toward the bathroom.

  “Where’s Zane?”

  “In the shower.”

  Izzy laughed. “Relax. I’m not here to out you. Just the opposite.” His grin turned wicked. “I want to make sure Zane knows me as a friend.”

  “Why?”

  Izzy’s eyes went seductive, and the tip of his tongue peeked between his teeth. “Because then it’s not out of the ordinary if we disappear together.”

  Rabin flushed but had to smile. “You’re naughty.”

  “I am. I know it.”

  On impulse, Rabin finished his way around the corner and reached up to hook Izzy’s neck. “Come here, you.”

  Purring, Izzy melted into a sweet kiss that heated up pretty fast. They’d left things open at the end of the weekend. Rabin knew he probably should have put an end to it and said as much, but he was reluctant to do so. All morning, he’d rationalized that he’d had plenty of female fuck buddies in his life, so why not one male?

  Something banged in the bathroom, and Rabin jumped back. “Shit.”

  It wasn’t the door. Zane must have dropped something.

  Izzy laughed, wiping his lips. “Careful.” He twisted to turn on the oven. “Are you sure you haven’t been gay all along?”

  “Who knows? It’s never bothered me.” Feeling bold, he pressed up against Izzy’s back. “Just never had a golden opportunity with a hot guy like you before.”

  “Mmm, you probably were oblivious.” He patted Rabin’s hip. “Not that I mind. Now go into the other room before we ruin everything.”

  It was surprisingly hard for Rabin to make himself retreat into the next room, but Izzy was right. “Why no school?”

  “One of my instructors had an emergency.” He sighed dramatically. “I’m going to practice pastas in that big, empty house all by myself tonight.”

  Rabin sat on the couch to keep himself from returning to Izzy’s side. “You’ll be fine. Brent and Hell will be back tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. But I kind of enjoyed this weekend.” Izzy opened the refrigerator. “Oh man, you need to go food shopping. Promise me you’re not going to buy all frozen dinners. I will die.”

  Rabin laughed. “I’ll do what I can, but no promises. Zane loves frozen pizza.”

  In the bathroom, the water shut off. Rabin sat forward and watched the door.

  “Relax.”

  This was too weird. Shouldn’t it be him who was telling Izzy to relax? Still, he sat back and waited while Izzy put the food in the oven. A minute later, Zane opened the door, dripping naked and rubbing a towel over his abundance of hair.

  Rabin coughed to cover up a bout of hysterical laughter. “Uh, Zane, we’ve got company.”

  “Huh?” The towel came down, covering his groin as Zane blinked around the apartment. His gaze snagged on Izzy.

  “Zane.” Rabin sat forward, elbows on knees, as Izzy came into the room. “This is Izzy, a friend of mine. He’s Brent’s cousin.”

  “Hey, glad to meet you.” Rabin had to smile at the way Izzy tamped down his normal sunny inflection and didn’t flirt a bit.

  Holding the towel at his waist, Zane extended a hand and tried a tentative smile. “Hey.”

  “Sorry to barge in. I made some food and brought it over. Figured you guys would be hungry after moving stuff around all day.”

  Zane’s head jerked up a little. “Food?”

  “I’m a culinary student.” Izzy glanced at Rabin. “School’s not all that far away, in fact.”

  Rabin saw the wicked glint in Izzy’s eyes, but Zane couldn’t.

  The mention of food did break through Zane’s hesitation. “Yeah?”

  Rabin sank back on the couch, trying to relax. “Oh yeah, Zane, you’re in for a treat. He’s good.” And not just at cooking.

  Izzy grinned. “I hope you like manicotti.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Zane was all smiles now. “I’m starved. Let me go get some clothes on.”

  Once Zane disappeared into his room, Izzy smiled at Rabin. “The way to a man’s heart…”

  * * * *

  Izzy stayed with them for dinner, and Rabin marveled at this person he hardly knew. It looked like Izzy and sounded like Izzy, but most of his customary mannerisms were gone. No flapping, expressive hands, no batted eyelashes, no swaying in his chair or curling fingers in his hair. He talked and laughed, quizzing Zane about himself and the drive up from Virginia, and seemed to be having a good time, but it was like a different person. Or at least a different side of the same person.

  Rabin kind of liked this side too. Seemed natural and less contrived. Rabin had to wonder if either face was a mask. Or both.

  “Just keep the dish,” Izzy told Rabin as they dumped their paper plates into one of the giant black sacks that’d been stuffed with rubbish during the day. “I’ll come back and get it.” Since Zane was preoccupied with the trash bag, Izzy gave Rabin a knowing smile.

  “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Zane asked, coming to lean on the kitchen counter. “Rabin says this place down the street is worth it.”

  “No, thanks. It’s a long drive back to the house, and I’m beat. And I’ve got school tomorrow.”

  “Well, hey, you deserve an A-plus for that meal tonight.” Zane patted his stomach.

  “Thanks. I wish my instructors were as positive as you.” They all laughed. “All right, I’m gone.” He held out his hand to Zane. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here. Anytime you want to bring over food…”

  “You bet.” He waved innocently at Rabin, who had remained in the kitchen. “See ya, Rabin.”

  “’Night. Thanks, Iz.”

  Then he was gone. Just like that. Rabin rubbed at his chest, feeling a bit odd. The visit felt…unfinished. What did he expect? A kiss good-bye?

  “He’s a little light in the loafers too, isn’t he?”

  Rabin startled and looked up at Zane, who now leaned on the other side of the counter. “Huh?”

  Zane jerked his head toward the door, wild hair bouncing with the move. “Izzy. He’s gay, isn’t he?”

  “Uh, yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Oh please, I can spot ’em a mile away. Nice guy, though, even if he looks like a girl.”

  “Hey.”

  Zane shrugged. “I call ’em like I see ’em. Besides, he can look however he wants if he cooks like that. Oh man.” Again he patted his belly, adding a smack of his lips to it. “You gonna get showered?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rabin went to his room to gather clothing. The visit had gone well and done exactly what Izzy had intended. Now Zane knew Izzy as a friend. School and food gave Izzy a reason to drop by unannounced. In one smooth move, Izzy had made it easier for him and Rabin to occasionally see each other with Zane none the wiser, as long as they were still careful. It was masterful, really.

  So why did Rabin feel slightly…disappointed?

  Chapter Seven

  For the second time in less than a week, Rabin found himself out in public at a pretty rocking place with no desire to meet someone new. No, not true. He always liked meeting new people, and he’d met those here at Addie’s. But he had no desire to take any of the lovely ladies he’d met home with him, and it wasn’t just because he was tired from moving furniture for most of the day.

  He sat at the table he and Zane had landed a few hours ago, alone with his third scotch and soda. His latest new friend had left him to join her friends on the dance floor and had probably given up on him. He didn’t blame her. Although he’d read all of her very obvious signals, he hadn’t responded to one. After a pleasant conversation and a drink—on him—she’d excused herself. No
w he had only the dim bowl of light dangling over his head and a view of the minuscule dance floor for company. He watched the dancers and contemplated the small stage beyond them. Yes, he decided, they could play up there and fill the place with rock. The sound system was good, and the lights weren’t too bad, not for a place of its size.

  “All right.” Zane dropped heavily into the padded bench across from Rabin, somehow managing not to spill his drink. It might have started out as a rusty nail—Zane’s favorite celebratory drink—but by the look of it, the Drambuie was long gone and only watery Scotch remained. Zane took a moment to right himself and fold his arms carefully on the painted black tabletop, then blinked a few times to bring Rabin into focus. “What’s up with you, man?”

  Rabin shot back the last of his own drink and considered the glass, wondering if he wanted another. It was only walking distance back home, after all, no driving involved. “Wha’dya mean?”

  “You should be cock-deep in pussy right now. I thought you’d leave hours ago.” Not an unusual occurrence.

  Rabin shrugged. “Not in the mood.”

  “Not in the…?” Zane sat back, fingers of both hands up to dig into his considerable mop of hair. “I fucking hate you sometimes. There are at least seven girls here who’re dying to have you.” His hands slapped down on his thighs.

  Rabin chuckled. “And you know this because…?”

  “Because they asked me about you.”

  “Ah. Sorry.”

  Zane glared. “I haven’t skimmed your sloppy seconds in a long time, man.”

  Rabin swallowed, twirling his glass. True. Zane used to call Rabin his lure. It wasn’t that Zane was bad-looking; he just wasn’t that good at starting things off. Once he got a girl who was interested, he was fine. After the Knights had their fifteen minutes of fame, Zane had found his own girls. It had lasted a long time in Virginia at their old haunts and in New York at the few bars where they tended to hang out. But it was all new here, and evidently Zane was striking out. Rabin knew from experience that the Knights were pretty much nonexistent in the local lexicon. “You want to just head home, then?”