Chess Part One Box Set

by Sean Michael

  “It was early.” He was shaky now, and tired. He’d worked all night. He wanted to go home.

  Bish put his hat on, wrapped the scarf around his neck and got his hands into the mittens. “We’re walking. The snow was too thick to drive.” Bish’s arm wrapped around him.

  “Okay.” He looked at Bish. “Okay. It’s early for you to be awake.”

  Bish shrugged. “I had a feeling.”

  “Hey, guys.” Rick came up, a pair of sweatpants in hand. “For the walk home, eh?”

  “Thank you, Rick. I’d assumed he was wearing his running pants.”

  “Knight? That would be logical.” He got a wink.

  Bish snickered, arm tightening around him. “Come on, let’s get these things on so we can get you home and warmed up properly.”

  “Please.” He was suddenly exhausted, raw and shattered.

  Bish got him dressed, got them moving, sheltering him from the storm when they went out. The walk to the house seemed endless and short, all at once.

  Bish started stripping him the moment they got in. “Hot shower first.”

  “Okay.” He was thinking through a fog.

  “Did you sleep at all, babe?” Bish asked it like he knew the answer already.

  Knight shook his head. “Was working.”

  “You should have come to bed when you were done.”

  “I needed to run.” Right?

  “You needed to sleep. You can always run later, baby.”

  Stripped down, he was led toward the big bathroom with the best shower. Bish got everything going and pushed him in. The hot shower beat down, creating steam almost immediately. Better than that, though, were Bish’s hands moving over him. Knight moaned, leaning up into the hot spray.

  Eventually Bish turned him, putting his hands on the tile. Two slick fingers slid into his ass, almost a part of the water as it beat down around him.

  “Not cold there.” No, in fact, those fingers were warm.

  “I know.” Bish pressed kisses over his shoulders, body pressing up against him as those fingers played, twisted, stretched, pushed deep.

  He moaned and spread, a little bit lost.

  “I’ve got you,” growled Bishop, fingers pushing hard against his gland.

  “Got me…” He shivered. “Oh, fuck. Right there.”

  “That’s right. Not letting go either.” Bish’s fingers disappeared, the man’s thick cock pressing against his hole.

  “Promise?” He leaned into the stretch, the feeling familiar, right.

  “I swear to God, Knight. Nothing’s gonna stop me.” Bish’s prick kept moving into him, sinking in deeper and deeper.

  “Fuck, yeah.” He was flying, surrounded by heat.

  Bish rumbled in reply, the sound vibrating against his back. Then his lover started to move, hips sawing back and forth. His body arched, rocking with Bishop’s rhythm. Bish didn’t say a word, just kept pushing into him over and over. Knight’s eyes rolled back, sounds beginning to slip from him.

  “Mmm…” Those rumbles of Bish’s settled right in his balls.

  “Bishop. Bish…” His.

  Another grunt vibrated through him. Knight tried to squeeze, to grip Bishop tighter, make his lover crazy. Bishop was running the show, though, insisting on setting the rhythm. Stubborn ass. Fine, stubborn ass.

  Bishop chuckled, as if he knew exactly what Knight was thinking.

  “Laughing at me…”

  “Nope.” The next thrust hit his gland right on.

  “Bish!” His cry rang out.

  His lover stayed right there, banging on his gland over and over.

  “Oh, fuck. Fuck. Harder. Harder, damn it.”

  Bish backed off, cock sliding all the way out before pushing slowly back in. Knight sobbed once, hungry, before he pushed back, demanding.

  “Such a pushy boy.”

  “Fucking want you and I’m not a boy.” Fuck, Bish made him ache.

  “Sure you are. You’re my boy, Knight.” Bish hit his gland again with a good hard thrust. His answer was lost on a gasp.

  Bish picked up speed and strength, fucking him with long, hard strokes. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes.” Bish growled again and kept rocking, sending him flying.

  His balls drew up and he groaned, body going tight.

  “Not yet.” Bish’s hand grabbed his balls and tugged on them.

  “Bishop! Fuck!” He slammed his fists against the tiles.

  “I am fucking you.”

  Good and hard now, too, but not letting him come. Deep sounds poured out of him as his balls burned, throbbed, ached.

  “Soon,” murmured Bish, mouth sliding on his skin. “But only when I say.”

  “Bish… I ache.”

  “Builds character.”

  “Fucker.”

  “Your fucker.” Bish moved harder, faster—just plowing into him.

  “Yes. Mine.” He tried to reach for his cock, jack off.

  Bish smacked his hand away. “And that’s mine.”

  “I fucking need…” He was going to scream.

  “You’ll get what you need. You always do.”

  “I hate you.” He didn’t, but…

  “No, you don’t.” Bish didn’t stop thrusting.

  “Uh-huh. Going to move to Hawaii all by myself.”

  “Someone isn’t paying enough attention.” Bish pulled right out, hands hard on Knight’s hips.

  “Bish! Bish, love, please!” No. No fucking way…

  “If you’re complaining as much as that, you’re not paying enough attention.”

  He sobbed once, frustrated and tired and just pissed off. Bish’s mouth latched onto his neck, suction strong as Bish started thrusting again.

  “Gonna make you come and come and then I’m taking you to bed, Knight.”

  “Promise?” He gasped in a breath.

  “I swear to fucking God, K.”

  “’Kay.” Also please. And yes.

  “Gonna take care of you, baby.” Bish started really fucking him again, pushing into him like Bish was going to fuck him right through the wall.

  Knight groaned, body clenching, the world spinning around him, everything steamy and warm.

  Bish let go of his balls, wrapped his hand instead around his prick and began tugging, moving him between cock and hand. “Okay, Knight. Okay, you come on my cock now.”

  “Now…” He groaned the word as Bishop’s thumb dragged over the slit in his cock, tugging his orgasm out of him.

  He clamped down on Bish’s cock, making his lover moan, long and low, and fill him with heat.

  The tears came, harsh and unexpected, tearing from him. Jesus. Bish stayed buried inside him, holding him there in the water. The storm passed quickly, leaving him empty…except for Bish.

  Another kiss landed on his shoulder, then Bish slid out of him and turned off the water. “It’s nap time for you.”

  “Nap time?” He felt like he was wrapped in cotton.

  They stepped out of the water and Jason and Rookie were standing there—one with towels, one with huge mugs of hot chocolate.

  He could hear the smile in Bish’s voice as a mug was pushed into his hands and a towel wrapped around his shoulders. “When you spend all night working, you get to spend the morning napping. That’s how it works.”

  Rookie nodded, kissed his cheek. “Jason and I are going to play in the kitchen and make scones. You go with Bish, hmm?”

  “Are you sure he’s all right?” Jason asked as he and Rookie left.

  “Oh, yeah. He just needs to be reminded that human beings need sleep.”

  Bish chuckled as Rookie’s voice faded away. “Come on.”

  “I’m okay. Really. Just working on the new pieces.” Somehow there were always new pieces.

  “I know, baby.” Bish’s arm was warm and heavy on his shoulders, leading him down the hall.

  “It’s going well. There’ll be a show out of it.” He was bleeding out onto th
e canvas, it felt like.

  “Of course there will—you’re brilliant.” The words were sincere, he could feel that.

  Then they were in the bedroom, the big bed made, the corner turned down for them.

  “Uh-huh.” Brilliant. That was him.

  Bish grabbed his hot cocoa and put both mugs on the bedside table. Then his lover pushed him down onto the bed and followed, wrapping around him. Oh. Warm. Solid. His.

  “Bish.”

  “Right here, Knight.” Bish bit at his shoulder, then soothed the hurt with the hottest tongue. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “It’s snowing. Hard.”

  “Yep.” The licking turned into nuzzling.

  He could feel Bishop’s breath, seducing him, tempting him deeper and deeper.

  “Love you, Knight. And I have you.” He could feel the words you’re safe with every breath Bish took.

  Safe. Love. Yeah… He fell into dreams where the world was springtime.

  “Is he okay? He didn’t look okay.” Jason shook his head. Knight was wicked, but Jason was sort of fascinated by the man and his clever, amazing mind.

  “He will be, honey. Bishop knows what he needs, how to bring him back to the land of the living after he loses himself in his art.” Rook brushed a hand over his back.

  “Yeah?” Jason blinked and stretched. “I really should work out.” Although playing in the kitchen with Rook sounded infinitely more fun.

  Rook pouted and slid into his space, rubbing up against him. “Let’s make scones and eat them in front of the fire—that’s the best thing to do when it’s blizzarding like this.” Rook gave him a long look before adding, “We can talk about stuff.”

  “I like scones.” He couldn’t resist those eyes. “Did you print out the recipe?”

  “I did. It’s on the counter. I even paid attention and put the stick of butter in the freezer. We’re supposed to grate it.” Rook laughed. “Grating butter, isn’t that a hoot?”

  “No shit?” Jason chuckled and dared to touch Rook’s cheek, stroke it. Rook nuzzled into his touch, eyes going soft and happy.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you. Especially not about food.”

  “You wouldn’t.” This whole situation was just… Wow. Who would have believed that only weeks ago he’d never been with a man and now… Now he was dangerously close to losing himself in one.

  Rook beamed at him—that easy, ready smile addictive. “Okay. Kisses first, and then kissing. I mean blow jobs. No. Cooking. Kissing, blow jobs and cooking.”

  Jason cracked up, his laughter ringing out. “Horndog.”

  Rook tried to look offended and failed miserably. “I think the word you’re looking for is corndog and we have some in the freezer.”

  “Ew. No. That’s not healthy.” Hot dogs were…awful.

  That had Rook cracking up and the kiss that was pressed on him was full of the sound, of the happiness. They ended up leaning against the counter, wrapped up together, lips clinging. It happened with Rook. A lot.

  Rook rubbed against him and slowly ended the kiss. “Wanna suck you.”

  He blinked then moaned. He loved when Rook said that. Loved it.

  Rook slowly slid down to his knees, kissing and licking as he went.

  “Rook…” His robe was opened, his body exposed.

  “Uh-huh.” Rook breathed on his cock.

  “You’re so…good…” At this. At kisses. At making him feel good.

  Rook beamed up at him. “Love you too, honey.” Then the man swallowed his cock whole.

  Jason gasped, eyes wide as he watched his prick disappear. Rook pulled back again, Jason’s glistening prick sliding from between his lips.

  “Oh, God. Please.” He reached down and stroked Rook’s hair.

  Rook pulled off long enough to say, “I love how you beg.” Then Rook took him back down again.

  His world spun and he held on to the edge of the counter. Rook’s head bobbed, that mouth sliding up and down his prick. Fuck. He… It… This… Damn. The words floated through the air. The hum around his cock sent vibrations right to his balls.

  Jason whimpered and shot. No matter how many times Rook did that to him—and it was often—it was always amazing.

  Rook swallowed him down and cleaned his cock thoroughly, pulling off just before it became too much sensation. He was given a shit-eating grin, Rook looking so pleased.

  “Yum!”

  “Good morning.” He blinked and swayed, his knees weak.

  “It is!” Rook grabbed his ass playfully, then tied his robe back up. “Okay. Conversation and scones. I think it’s about time we talked about safewords.”

  “I’ll get the butter.” Safewords, huh?

  “The stick in the freezer, honey. We can take turns grating it, because that’s got to be something everyone should do at least once in their life.” Rook looked at the recipe and started pulling the other ingredients out.

  Going by past experience, the cooking would happen with enthusiasm and a huge mess would be made, which Rook would laugh and shrug about and either he or Bish would clean up later. Rook was very hit or miss when it came to cooking—more miss than hit—but he had a lot of enthusiasm, like with everything he did.

  Jason thought it was sort of incredibly adorable.

  He found the butter and grabbed himself a banana on the way by.

  “Oh, God, I love the way you eat those.” Rook stopped what he was doing and set a hip against the counter, looking at him.

  “Aren’t we grating butter?” He handed the stick over and peeled the banana. “And they have lots of potassium.”

  “Uh-huh.” Rook put the stick of butter in the bowl he’d taken out of the cupboard. “Let me watch you blow the banana first.”

  “I…” Now he was never going to be able to eat the damned thing.

  Rook licked his lips and smiled.

  “I can just eat it, right?”

  “Uh-huh. Go for it.”

  Oh, thank God. He ate the banana, trying not to blush.

  Rook moaned and sighed happily. “I do love watching you eat those…”

  He snorted around the fruit in his mouth, stupid with happiness.

  It was only when he was done that Rook sighed again and went back to fetching ingredients and measuring cups.

  He moved behind Rook, hands on the man’s shoulders. “You okay?”

  “Mmm. I am, honey. I was just enjoying watching you. That feels good.”

  “Are we serious about piercing…things?”

  Rook nodded. “Oh, yes.” Rook turned and looped both arms around his waist. “They’re not permanent and you’d look amazing with some pretty rings to play with.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  “I think we should definitely talk about safewords, honey. You need to know because that’s the way you make anything stop.”

  “Okay. What’s yours?” He liked that idea.

  “Mine is ‘guillotine’ because there’s no way I’d accidentally say that.”

  “Guillotine? Like off with his head?” Seriously?

  Rook laughed and nodded. “Well, it has to be something easy to remember and that you wouldn’t normally use. There’s no way I’m going to say guillotine ever and not mean it as my safeword. And I’m hardly going to forget it, am I?”

  “Right. Do Bishop and Knight have one?”

  “Yep. Knight’s is ‘wonderland’ and Bishop’s is ‘Alaska’.”

  He pondered that. “Have you ever used it?”

  All the while, Rook cooked and he touched, watching the chaos.

  Rook actually blushed. “You might have noticed I’m kind of a slut, right? Well, they’ve never done anything to me I wanted them to stop.”

  “No? If you did, would they be angry?” That was the real question.

  “No! Not at all, honey. That’s the point of a safeword. It’s so you can stop everything if you have to. Sometimes…well, Knight especially, will say �
��stop’ and not mean it. What he means is ‘don’t you dare stop, Bish’. He needs to fight it, though. So Bish gives that to him. But, to make sure he’s safe, there has to be a way for things to stop, for Bish—or me or whatever—to know that he actually means it this time.”

  Rook grabbed a cookie tray and lined it with parchment paper. “Now Bish—sometimes he needs to get Knight’s attention, or mine if I’m off in ‘oh-God-it’s-good-and-I’m-not-paying-any-attention land’ and he’ll use his safeword and that’s how we know he’s being really serious and we need to stop and listen and talk about stuff. You would use yours if you needed everything to stop, and it would and nobody would be mad.” Rook laughed. “Maybe a little frustrated and horny, but not mad, okay? I know you signed a contract that said we could do whatever we wanted to you as long as it wasn’t permanent, but nobody wants to do anything to you that you truly don’t want.”

  “I know that.” He’d been here long enough to know that the contract was part of the kink, but that was it. He was here because he was fascinated.

  They wanted him here.

  “So are you going to pick a safeword?”

  “I suppose. I just don’t know what I want to pick.” He rescued the bowl of dough—or was it batter?—as it tried to spill.

  “Oh, nice catch!” Rook laughed and managed to knock the bag of flour with his elbow. It fell over and flour poured out onto the floor. “Oops!”

  “You take this. I’ll grab the broom.” He chuckled and headed for the utility closet.

  Rook took the bowl and began forming the scones and putting them on the tray. The oven beeped at them, letting them know it was at temperature.

  “Do you think they’ll turn out?” Rook asked. “We might have to go to the bakery.”

  “It’s really coming down… I think we’ll try them.”

  “Oh, I forgot about the snow.” Rook crossed his fingers and put the scones into the oven. He even remembered to turn on the timer.

  “Would you like eggs or something, too? Or just more hot cocoa?” Jason asked.

  “I like the scrambled eggs you make.”

  Rook liked everything he made, it seemed.

  Of course Jason wouldn’t be bragging if he said he was the best cook in the house—he didn’t exactly have a lot of competition. “Okay. Scrambled eggs it is.”