by Sean Kennedy
Icarus said nothing, but even if he had Ezra doubted he would have been able to hear him in the rush of wind. Even in this surreal predicament, he became aware of the other man’s body pressed against his, the bare skin of his torso giving off a heady aroma of sweat and gasoline from the machinery of his wings.
Ezra looked above them to see if he could make out the Lilliput and Harding’s ship, but his falling must have made him drift away from them, and Icarus seemed to be taking them even further away. And no wonder, seeing both were out to capture him.
Which made his reasoning behind saving Ezra’s life unfathomable. Did the man have a death wish?
Icarus shifted against him, and Ezra slipped a little as one hand that was supporting him moved to one of the straps hanging by Icarus’s side.
Ezra cried out, but the other arm tightened its grip on him, and he watched as Icarus’s wings began folding within the structure created for them.
Ezra’s legs buckled against them as they hit the ground, and he fell backward onto his ass. Icarus stood over him.
“Are you injured?” the outlaw asked with a voice like steel oiled with honey.
Ezra hacked up a lung, trying to clear the dust, and nodded.
“Are you in the habit of skysailing without a chute?” There was a twinkle in Icarus’s eye as he asked it.
It rankled Ezra, as if he were being made out a fool. “No. We were attacked, and my ship was damaged. I fell out.”
“I see,” said Icarus. “So you, who were out to capture me, were attacked by others, who were also out to capture me? Not really feeling that sorry for you.”
“Then why did you save me?” Ezra asked irritably, getting back to his feet.
Icarus regarded him for a moment. “Because I couldn’t have a death on my conscience when there was an opportunity to stop it.”
Ezra stared at him. “That’s mighty charitable of you.”
“I don’t suppose that will stop you from chasing me?”
Ezra couldn’t answer him. It didn’t seem very charitable of him to say no, especially in light of his being rescued by the very man he was trying to turn in to the authorities, but could he say no?
“I didn’t think so,” Icarus said. He looked up at the sky. “It looks like your ship is coming for you. I best be off before you get it into your head to tackle me and take me prisoner.”
He moved to open his wings again, but Ezra cried out. “Wait!”
Icarus paused. “Why?”
“Thank you… for, you know….”
“Saving your life?”
“Yeah.”
“That makes you owe me one, Mr.…?”
“Kneebone,” Ezra said. “Ezra Kneebone.”
“Ezra.” Icarus nodded. “Anyway, you can’t give me the one thing I really want as payment; the promise of my freedom. And anything else I might want from you, I doubt you would be willing to give.”
And Ezra saw a gleam in his eye, something he didn’t expect, the gleam of a “fellow traveler” as they were sometimes called. Someone like himself, who preferred his own sex. And before he could think twice about it, he found himself crossing over to the other man and grabbing him for a rough and passionate kiss. As he suspected, Icarus didn’t pull away. In fact, he opened his mouth to the invasion of Ezra’s tongue, and he cupped Ezra’s face in his hands to bring him in for a deeper kiss, almost lifting him off his feet.
Ezra ran his hand down Icarus’s back, marveling at the strong muscles that were obviously developed through carrying the weight of his wings. And even as his body responded to the kiss, an evil thought took shape in his mind.
I could just rip out the wires to his wings right now, and he wouldn’t be able to fly away….
As if sensing his thoughts, or realizing the treacherous predicament he could be in, Icarus pulled away suddenly. He sized Ezra up, obviously trying to ascertain his motives. “Your debt isn’t settled, just so as you know.”
“I thought a kiss for payment may have been too old-fashioned,” Ezra heard himself quipping, although it was as if he were a click away and straining to hear himself.
“I’m an old-fashioned guy,” Icarus admitted. “But that’s a cheap rate. It was a fine kiss, but not that fine. You still owe me.”
“As long as you know I ain’t no damsel needing to be rescued.”
“You don’t look like a damsel, but that’s fine with me,” Icarus noted. He looked up again and said, “I must be going.”
“I’ll be watching the skies for you,” Ezra warned him.
Icarus grinned. “Please do.”
He ran to the precipice of the cliff and launched himself off it. For a moment he was out of Ezra’s sight, and he thought that maybe the wings had failed Icarus and he had fallen to his death. But just as quickly, Icarus flew out from under the outcropping and circled around the rapidly approaching Lilliput, as if taunting Jazz, before heading off into safer air.
Ezra’s wrist crackled as the comms button sparked into life.
“Kneebone, are you all right?”
Ezra raised his cuff to his mouth. “I’m fine, Jazz.”
“You fool! How many times do I have to tell you to wear your belt?”
Apparently, she would have to keep telling him. “Where’s Harding gone to?” he asked wearily.
“Chasing after your little friend.”
Ezra doubted Harding would catch Icarus today, if ever. The man just seemed too wily to trap. In fact, Ezra found himself hoping Icarus would fly forever free.
It was probably just because he now felt he owed the outlaw something. He would have to put an end to that kind of thinking soon enough.
The Lilliput began to line up with the edge of the cliff, the ruined port side facing Ezra. He could now see Jazz inside, waving wildly for him to get back on board.
It only took a few steps for him to walk across and find himself back on his ship. Jazz waited as he belted himself into his chair with over-exaggerated motions for her benefit, and then the Lilliput launched itself back into the sky.
Chapter 9
THEIR misadventure at the hands of Harding meant they had to return to Shrevesport and attempt some repairs. They couldn’t go hunting Icarus with half of the portside missing, even if Ezra was starting to wear his seatbelt now.
“I sometimes like having the windows open,” Jazz said. “But it’s a bit different when half of the ship is missing.”
“It wasn’t half the ship,” Ezra grumped. “It was a door.”
“And it’s a pretty big door!” Jazz was incensed at the extent of the damage. “We’re going to have to make Harding pay!”
“Good luck trying to get even one penny out of him,” Ezra mused.
Jazz began to assemble the welder, and smiled disconcertingly as she adjusted the flame and was enveloped by its ethereal blue glow. “You have no balls, Kneebone. Maybe you could rip off Harding’s and wear them.”
It was an accusation that had been—unfairly—leveled at him by her before. But Jazz knew as well as he that with Harding’s money and power—oh, and his influence, both politically and socially—Harding had them over a barrel. They were screwed no matter which way you looked at it.
Harding didn’t need the money that came with the reward for catching Icarus. He just wanted the reputation and renown that would come with capturing the region’s most wanted man.
“Just tell me how long until we’re flying again,” Ezra sighed.
Jazz began shearing off some of the damaged metal of the doorframe in order to make it smoother. “Luckily all he really did was catch onto the doorframe and rip it off. And we still have some leftover metal from the parts we made when we built the Lilliput originally. I should be able to do a really good scratch job.”
“That’s great, but when can we fly again?”
“I need two days. At least. And that’s with you helping me, of course.”
Icarus seemed to be slipping out of their fingers, but all Ezra could do was
nod. “Okay. Let’s get started.”
THEY worked well into the night, and were exhausted by the time they decided to call it a day and meet up in the morning again. Jazille headed off to the refuge of Lady Bart’s, while Ezra poked around his living area at the back of their office. He was pent-up, and he needed release.
He needed Whiskeytown.
At this time of night, the newsboys weren’t working. One of the stands still had that day’s news stories listed. Ezra grimaced at the headline: HERO HARDING ON THE TRAIL OF VILLAIN ICARUS.
He needed a drink as well as a fuck. He stopped in quickly at one of the rundown bars and bought a quart of whiskey, taking a healthy swig as he surveyed the streets for someone to spend some time with.
That was when he saw Lee again. His previous choice emerged from the doorway of the hotel where Ezra had accompanied him last time he was here. Lee was not alone, but his customer seemed to be farewelling him. He must be free, then.
Ezra approached him. “Lee!”
The young man turned, a surprised look on his face. It settled when he recognized Ezra. “Evening, sir. Or morning, as the case may be.”
“I believe it’s morning. You’re not knocking off, are you?”
Lee grinned, and it was disarmingly pretty. “I suppose I could fit you in, sir.”
Ezra chuckled at the salacious bon mot and decided to play along. “And I would love to fit in you, Lee.”
“So it’s a two, then?”
“The whole package.”
“Seeing it’s you, I’ll give you a discount. Fourteen all up for an all-nighter.”
Ezra didn’t really think it was an extravagance he could afford, but he didn’t care. “Fair enough.”
“Come on, then.”
He followed Lee inside and up the stairs to his small room.
“Sit down, sir.”
Ezra did so, on the end of the bed. “Don’t call me ‘sir’, Lee. Not tonight.”
“But you never gave me your name, did you?”
Ezra hesitated, then said, “It’s Ezra.”
“That’s a good, strong name. I look forward to calling it out.”
Ezra was already getting hard. Lee was good at his job, it seemed. Normally the thought of paying for sex could make a man need a hand, so to speak, before he was ready and up for the task. He reached for his wallet, but Lee pushed his hand away.
“I trust you, Ezra.”
“That’s not necessarily wise.”
“You have a sense about you. You treated me well last time. You can tell a lot about a man when you’ve fucked him.”
“Really?” Ezra asked. He would have assumed that most men closed off during sex with a hooker. “We didn’t really fuck, though.”
Lee shrugged. “We did enough. And if you’ve done it long enough like I have, you get to know. You’re kind, but honest.”
Maybe that was true. But it wasn’t really something a man wanted to hear about himself. Especially if he worked in a business where you couldn’t allow yourself to get that kind of reputation. It wasn’t as if somebody like Harding was known for his kindness and honesty, was it?
As if reading his mind, Lee murmured, “Relax, and stop thinking, Ezra.” He rubbed gently at Ezra’s temples, and Ezra closed his eyes. Now that he wasn’t thinking so much, he became aware of his cock, full of hot blood, trapped within his trousers and wanting to be released. Goddamn if he wouldn’t come in his pants if Lee didn’t start undressing him.
And there—sweet relief—Lee’s hands were in his pants, bringing him out and tugging at him with a sure hand.
“Don’t get too excited, sir,” Lee teased. “This is just an appetizer to the main course.”
“Get your clothes off,” Ezra instructed.
He began undressing himself while keeping an eye on the other man. Lee made a show of it, taking far longer than it would have normally. Maddening thing. Ezra was pleased when the pants were dropped and Lee was already hard as well, his cock bobbing up happily out of a thick bush. Ezra reached for it, and was pleased at how smoothly the silken shaft moved within his cupped palm. Lee closed his eyes and moaned.
But Ezra found his eyes drifting away from Lee’s face, and concentrating on his body instead. Despite his sort-of-fondness for the whore, as much fondness as one could have for somebody he had only met twice in his life, it wasn’t his body that he wanted to be touching, to claim and allow to claim his own. And true, Lee’s body was too scrawny compared to the toned but lean body he actually wanted, but it could make do aided by his strong imagination.
“What are you thinking of?” Lee asked.
“You,” Ezra lied.
Lee smirked, and Ezra knew that he was caught out in the lie. “Get on the bed.”
Lee complied, and crawled onto it, his ass in the air. On all fours, he waited patiently for his client.
Knowing that in this position, it was so easy for him to turn Lee into an object—a body that from behind could almost be anybody’s—Ezra swallowed down the discomfort and guilt he was feeling, but stepped out of his pants and walked over to the bed. Lee arched beneath his touch as Ezra ran his hand down his smooth back and cupped his ass cheek, then reached up to his bedside drawer and fumbled around within it for a small tin. He passed it to Ezra, who opened it up to find a pleasantly scented tallow.
“Makes it all the easier for me,” Lee said.
Ezra rubbed the smooth, cool lubricant onto his pecker; Lee held onto the bedhead and wiggled his ass seductively. He had to give the man points for having a fine rump—and judging from the way Icarus had filled out his pants, he had to have one as well. Ready to go, Ezra gave Lee an appreciative slap on his left cheek.
“What are you waiting for?” Lee asked. “Take me.”
“Shh,” Ezra cajoled him. If he spoke, he would only ruin the illusion.
Sliding into the hilt, he heard Lee gasp. Slowly, he pulled out again, and Lee moaned in pleasure. No, not Lee. Just saying that to himself made him slide out of reality a little more, and this time as he slid in, adjusting his angle slightly, he was able to believe it was Icarus moaning beneath him, that it was Icarus he was seeking to pleasure, that it was Icarus straining to pleasure him back.
Icarus.
Now all sense of reality abandoned him, and he began pumping away, one hand roughly holding onto the hips that writhed below him, and his free hand tracing the shoulder blades, which would be crossed by leather, holding the small engine pack that the wings rested upon. The moans he could hear had taken on a slightly deeper bass, more like that of Icarus himself, and coupled with his own raspy breaths, they were a music he would gladly listen to. It seemed that the room was now melting away from them—the physics of his body contorting to make him feel as if he was joined again with Icarus and falling through the sky. As he felt his release near, he ran his hands over Icarus’s back again—and the wings opened under his touch.
Ezra’s eyes flew open as he came—the light, the sky, the wind… all disappeared straight away and he was back in Lee’s small room, hunched over the man’s back and gasping for breath as he felt his release drain away. Wiping the sweat off his face, he pulled out of Lee and stepped away. Lee slumped onto his sheets and rolled over, his hand working furiously as he brought himself off. He cried out, and lay there basking in the glow as Ezra began to wipe himself off and pull his pants back on.
“Why are you dressing?” Lee asked, lighting a cigarette from a pack he produced from the bedside table. “Thought you were staying the night?”
The fantasy destroyed, Ezra wasn’t sure if he could lie naked with this stranger all night when he wasn’t the one he wanted. “Got another?” he asked, deflecting the question.
Lee nodded and tossed him the packet. He scooted up to rest his back against the bedhead he had practically clawed apart earlier, his now flaccid pecker lying against his thigh. Ezra calmly took in his beauty, and lit a cigarette. He rarely smoked, but the acrid taste seemed to wake him up even more
. There was only so much fantasy you could take. He moved over to stand beside Lee.
With his cigarette in his mouth, Lee puffed away as he reached over and unfastened Ezra’s pants. “You look good in these,” he said, slightly muffled as his lips remained pursed to keep the cigarette in place. “But you look good out of them.”
Naked again, Ezra crawled to lie beside him on the bed.
Lee grinned. “It’s nothing to be afeared of, you know.”
“What?” Ezra asked gruffly.
“You were thinking of somebody else when you were fucking me.”
Ezra began to protest, but Lee shrugged him off. Ezra shrugged—it wasn’t like he was paying to protect his feelings.
“Whoever he is,” Lee grinned. “You’re going to make him feel lucky, all things going.”
Ezra grunted and dragged on his cigarette. “You going to keep talking all night?”
“Do you mind?”
Strangely enough, Ezra didn’t. Especially when Lee’s hand traveled south and began to perk him up again, and he was able to imagine once more that it was he and Icarus again—free in the skies.
Nevertheless, he managed to grunt out, “Don’t know when I’ll get to see you again. Business is taking me out of town in the next couple of days.”
As if from far away, he could hear Lee respond, “I’ll just have to make this do for now, then.”
Turned out he could make do very well indeed.
Chapter 10
GETTING the Lilliput back in the air was a little more difficult than originally thought. The door they fashioned out of scraps was too big according to the original specifications, and they had to shore it down a little more again. But once that was done, they found themselves in Waulkham Hills again, and having to stay in their own ship as every spare room in the town was taken up by amateur bounty hunters wanting to claim the reward for capturing Icarus.
