by Willa Okati
Jack-O-Lantern: Raven
Willa Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2006 Willa Okati
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ISBN (10) 1-59596-574-2
ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-574-5
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Editor: Crystal Esau
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
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“It must be here somewhere.” Andrew ran his finger across a row of ancient book spines, wanting to sneeze as the dust flew up around his face like a halo. “I found it the last time I looked for it. I put it back where it belongs. So why can’t I find the damned thing?”
Giving up, he pulled a book out at random, measuring the weight and thickness of it. Heavy as his favorite carved marble dildo, and thick as a man’s cock. The pages were yellowed and battered with time, crackling ominously as he opened them and glanced in, but what did that matter? He needed something to pass the time.
He wouldn’t have to wait much longer, but until then, he couldn’t stand the silence. Silence broken only by the raven sitting above the door to his study, shuffling its clawed feet on its perch, shifting its ebony wings, and peering at him through first one baleful eye and then the other. Most ravens could not speak, but then again, few belonged to wizards.
“Well?” Andrew asked, tucking the book under his arm. “Is he on his way? Will he be here soon?”
The raven mumbled something, tucking its head under one wing. A single malicious eye glittered at Andrew. Whatever the bird knew, it wasn’t telling. And for a familiar, this was something that just wouldn’t do. Andrew crossed the room in a few short strides to stand beneath the doorway, glaring up at his “pet.” “Answer me,” he warned. “More depends on the question than you know.”
The bird shook its head. “Not coming,” he rasped. “Never going to be here. No more.”
“Why you -- I ought to turn you inside out and use your feathers for a pillow!” Andrew made a grab at the bird, which darted easily out of his reach, higher up onto a marble bust above the door. Flushed, he raked a hand through his hair and swore at his familiar. “He will come,” Andrew said mutinously. “He always comes. Maybe not always on schedule…”
“Waiting,” the bird snickered. “Waiting here forevermore.”
“A fat lot you know.” Andrew tucked the book under his arm. “I have more important things to do than sit around and chatter with you all evening.”
“Dirty book,” the raven observed, stretching its wings wide. “Dirty filthy book. Going to read?”
Andrew’s cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “This is not a dirty book. This is a time-honored classic.”
“Says you, says you.”
“Yes, says I,” Andrew mocked, marching toward his desk. “What would you know about history? This was written by one of the greatest Arabic scholars to ever set ink on paper.”
“Dirty book.”
“It is not a -- oh, why do I bother?” Andrew slammed the book down on his desk, wincing when the spine gave a creak and the front cover cracked a bit down the middle. “Be quiet and let me read until he comes. I’m sure it’s not going to be long now.”
The raven croaked, a funereal sound, and shuffled on its perch. Glaring at it, Andrew pulled out his desk chair and carefully opened the pages. The Kama Sutra, an ancient edition. It amused him to think about the stuffy old gentlemen who would have displayed this with a smirk in their private collections, voraciously read it on the sly, and finally packed it away for him to find so many years later.
He’d loved this from the moment he’d laid eyes on it. The perfect addition to the library he’d spent years building, shelves and shelves full of ancient books with good leather bindings. Opening to a page near the middle, Andrew began to read text he’d all but memorized.
“Wicked boy,” the raven suddenly spoke up. “Dirty mind, dirty mind.”
Andrew set his jaw in a hard line. “Then you’ll truly be shocked by this,” he said, standing up to go and find the book he’d originally been looking for. Scanning the shelves once more, he gave a grunt of pleasure as he saw it on a bottom shelf almost behind a beaten-up old armchair, where gentlemen of old would have kept all their favorite naughty books.
He straightened up, waving his antique edition of Let the Male Pleasure the Male. “What do you say to that, then, eh?”
“Nothing more.” The raven tucked his beak under one wing and glared.
Andrew flicked his fingers at the familiar, rendering it silent for the moment before retiring to his desk. He opened the book at random, grinning at the antique illustration of a man entering another man from behind. The drawing was rough and rushed, as if the illustrator had hardly dared set ink to paper for fear of being discovered at what he was doing. It wasn’t all like that, though. There were some lovingly detailed drawings elsewhere in the book. In fact, if he remembered right…
Tap-tap-tap.
Andrew’s head shot up. He gestured at the raven again. “Is that him? Has he come? There’s no peephole on the door. I know you know. Tell me.”
The raven shifted and grumbled.
Andrew snatched up a heavy wooden ruler, all ready to throw. “Tell me,” he threatened. “Has my lover come to stand outside the chamber door?”
“Leonard is here. Nevermore.” The raven looked baleful, as if delivering the news was bitter to him.
Andrew ignored the bird’s sourness to cross the room in what felt like a single bound. He snatched at the doorknob, his hand almost slipping in his eagerness, and yanked the door open.
Outside stood the man Andrew had been praying to see all night long. Taller than he was, with a shock of hair dark as the raven’s feathers and standing up in short spikes, an open and friendly face, square-rimmed glasses and a hesitant grin. “Leonard,” Andrew breathed. “You’re here. You came.” He reached for his lover’s hand. “I was beginning to wonder.”
“Nevermore,” the raven butted in.
“Birdie, hi,” Leonard greeted him with a brief glance upward. He quickly bypassed the raven for Andrew, eyes landing on him. Andrew could feel himself being devoured by the hungry gaze. “That’s enough small talk, don’t you think?” Leonard asked, stepping forward into the room.
“More than enough.” Andrew met him halfway and moved into Leonard’s arms as if they hadn’t been parted for a day, Leonard taking him by the waist and his own hands pressing against the small of Leonard’s back. Andrew raised his face and Leonard bent to it, pressing a kiss against his lips. No shy or hesitant kiss for them, but a ravenous one, Leonard taking control and dominating Andrew with the pressure of his mouth.
His tongue flickered along the seam of Andrew’s lips, which he parted gladly to let Leonard in. He sucked at Andrew’s bottom lip, then bit at the top, then ran his tongue over Andrew’s teeth
and stroked the flat of it against Andrew’s own tongue. Their heads moved first this way and then that, each of them seeking the best angle yet hasty in their need to devour one another from the mouth on down.
“And distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,” Leonard quoted when he came up for air, his lips deliciously swollen. “Not December, though, is it? It’s Halloween Eve, when ghosts walk.”
“Thank God.” Andrew wrapped himself tighter around Leonard and hung on. “It’s hard enough waiting for you as it is. If I had to go two more months I’d be insane.”
“You’re saying you aren’t now?” Leonard softened the possible sting of his words with a quick, sweet kiss. “If you are, then I’m mad too. Crazy about you.”
“It’s mutual.” Andrew stole a third kiss, lingering over the taste of Leonard’s lips. He’d been drinking something fruity and sweet, the flavor of it lingering on his mouth. “Punch?” he asked, licking his own mouth. “Something festive?”
Leonard grinned. “It’s too early for eggnog.”
“That bizarre concoction of sherbet and ginger ale?” Andrew took a fourth kiss. “Yes, that’s it exactly. You’ve been indulging tonight.”
“Better than real ale. I wanted a clear head when I saw you again. But what about you? Have you had anything?”
Andrew took a guilty glance at the tray of tea he’d made some hours earlier, now sitting cold and forgotten on the edge of his desk. Leonard sighed, but fondly, and ruffled up Andrew’s hair. “You have to take better care of yourself,” he scolded. “You can’t just sit here reading dusty old books and forgetting to eat or drink. I don’t know much about how these things work, but man cannot live by books alone.”
“Says you. Now, come here.” Andrew brought his lips to Leonard’s for yet another kiss, starting out hungry and rapidly progressing to desperate. He reached up to tangle his fingers in the stiff, gelled spikes of Leonard’s hair, then took off his glasses and laid them down on the desk. “Now,” he half asked, half ordered. “I want to have you now.”
“So soon?”
“It’s close to midnight.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“You were late this year. The hour scared me.” Andrew caressed Leonard’s cheek. “I thought you might not come, and the raven…”
“Nevermore,” a croak came from above their heads.
“Sour old nay-sayer,” Leonard scoffed. “I got held up, but you knew I’d be here. Nothing could have stopped me. Not hellhounds, not half a dozen spooks or devils, not even time itself. I’d have come. I always come for you on Halloween Eve.”
“I’m glad.” Andrew took Leonard by the hand, walking backwards as he led the man toward the small, soft camp bed he had set up in his study. “Come with me. Come on, now. Come.”
“And they say it’s romance that’s dead.” Leonard ran his own hand through Andrew’s waves of hair. “The color still makes me think of honey,” he said admiringly. “You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you. Do you ever? Change, I mean.”
Andrew shook his head. “I stay as much the same as I can, so you’ll recognize me when you see me again. And what about you? You haven’t aged a day.”
“It’s not likely that I would, is it?” Leonard stopped with his hand cupping Andrew’s jaw. He bent for a brief, chaste kiss. “God, the taste of you. I can’t get enough.”
“Take all you want, then. Take it all.” Andrew tugged on Leonard’s hand. “I can’t wait any longer for you. I’ve waited and waited on you tonight. We have to hurry.”
“It’s not quite midnight yet.”
“Nevermore,” the raven croaked.
“But we do have to hurry,” Leonard agreed, putting two fingers under Andrew’s chin and tilting it up for yet another kiss, tongue demanding entrance. They stood for a long moment, lost in each other, Andrew’s hand working against the fabric of Leonard’s T-shirt, almost kneading it like a contented cat. Or an eager one.
“It isn’t fair,” Leonard whispered heavily as their mouths parted. He rested his forehead against Andrew’s. “We wait so long and we have so little time. It takes so much effort to cross over that I barely have the strength to stand and kiss.”
“I know.” Andrew turned his head to press a kiss into Leonard’s palm. “But still,” he said mischievously, “you always find the energy to fuck. Don’t you?”
“I’d do anything to have you, and as often as I can. But only on Halloween…”
“When the spirits walk…”
“Can I be here in person. Flesh and blood for you to hold on to.”
Andrew rested his head against the solidity of Leonard’s chest for a moment, then drew back and began to peel his sweater off. As it cleared his head, he felt his hair tumble into a dozen tangles, static electricity wisping the strands about. “I need you,” he explained. “No more waiting. I have to have you inside of me.”
“Take it easy,” Leonard soothed, although he did run his hands up and down the muscles of Andrew’s chest and stomach with definite appreciation. “We’ve got time.”
“Nevermore,” the raven warned them.
“Shut up!” Leonard snapped. “Andrew…” His hands lingered over Andrew’s nipples. “My turn now, I guess. But first, you take off your pants. I want to see your cock again. I’ve been dreaming about it for a whole year.”
Andrew grinned. He loved it when Leonard lost control and turned lusty. It never took him long, but it was always worth the brief wait. “It’s a little cold in here. How about a fire, first?”
“You mean besides the one you’ve lit in me?” Leonard reached out to touch again, managing a stroke along Andrew’s shoulder before he moved beyond Leonard’s range. “Are you going to --”
Andrew snapped his fingers at the dead fire in the grate, which burst back to life. Soft rugs had been laid before it, and on second look they seemed like a better idea than the bed. Standing on one of them, testing the cushiness of the thick weave, he let his hands drop to the waistband of his trousers. They had a button fly. Undoing them one… by one… by one… teasing Leonard and watching his hungry expression all the while… Andrew slipped out of his slacks and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of the things, kicking them to the side, and stood naked, his body exposed for examination.
“Each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor,” Leonard quoted. “Distinctly I remember…”
“Don’t.” Andrew placed a finger briefly across his own lips. “No more bad memories.”
“Nevermore,” the raven warned.
Both men ignored the bird. Leonard gazed at Andrew, who stretched his arms wide and let Leonard look his fill, let him drink in the sight of his lover naked and already half-hard, his cock beginning to rise and point at the ceiling. Andrew reached down to grope himself, wrapping his fingers in a fist around his cock and tugging, starting to bring himself to full arousal.
“Stop right there,” Leonard ordered. “That’s my job.”
Andrew let his eyelids fall to half mast. “Then you’d better hurry, hadn’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “I’m already naked, and you’re wearing far too many clothes.”
“I can fix that quick enough.” Leonard skinned off his T-shirt and unzipped his jeans, kicking out of both. Like Andrew, he wore no underwear or socks, and when he was naked, Andrew had to stop and gaze hungrily at the sight of his lover, all hard planes and angles, hard muscles taut on his torso and down the length of his legs. “Well? How’s this?”
“Almost perfect.”
“Almost?”
“You’re still over there,” Andrew pointed out. “And I’m still over here.”
“I can fix that, too.” Leonard stepped toward Andrew, meeting him on the soft rugs. His cock, already fully hard, nestled in against Andrew’s belly with a touch that made him gasp. “Hot… so hot,” Leonard whispered in his ear. “Do you know how you feel to me?”
“If it’s half as good as you feel to me…” Andr
ew undulated, rubbing their cocks together. He hissed at the amazing sensation of hard flesh next to his own, then reached down to take a double handful of dick and pressed the two columns together. When he did, it was Leonard’s turn to make a small, choked sound and grab Andrew, pulling him close.
“You were right.” he agreed hoarsely. “No more waiting. It’s been long enough. Do you still keep supplies?”
“On the mantelpiece,” Andrew said eagerly, reaching to roll Leonard’s sac in one impatient hand. “The same kind of lube that you liked last year.”
“And the year before that, and before that, and before that…” Leonard kissed Andrew briefly before reaching over his shoulder for the tube. “You always come prepared.”
“Because I want to come,” Andrew whispered, nipping at Leonard’s shoulder. “Hurry up and do this. I need you.”
“Nevermore.”
“Shut up!” both men yelled at the raven, who muttered and hunched his feathers. They didn’t need any reminders that their time together would be all too short. Each of them had waited a whole year for this one moment, a stolen piece of time, and it never lasted long enough.
It could have been a lifetime, and it wouldn’t have been enough.
Leonard pushed gently at Andrew, guiding him down onto the floor. “I want you on your back this year,” he explained when Andrew would have gone onto his hands and knees. “I need to see your face. I want your eyes on mine when you come.”
Andrew hummed happily as he let Leonard guide him into place. Once on his back, he raised his knees and spread his legs wide like a slut, desperate for it and to hell with anyone who might have disapproved. “Hurry,” he urged huskily. “I need your hands on me. My own isn’t half good enough.”
Leonard sank into a kneeling position between Andrew’s legs. He dipped his head down and took Andrew’s cock into his mouth, catching him off guard. Andrew yelled and arched his hips, thrusting deep between Leonard’s lips, but his lover took it all without complaint and slid further down his shaft, tongue working busily and throat muscles closing around the tip of Andrew’s shaft.
