by Willa Okati
Andrew began to babble nonsense syllables, half-sitting so that he could grasp Leonard by the shoulders and urge him on. Leonard pulled off, lips deliciously red, and grinned at him. “Just a taste,” he teased. “I wanted to see if you still had the same flavor.”
“Do I?” Andrew asked, slowly laying himself back down.
Warm hands stroked his abdomen. “You do,” Leonard whispered, rubbing his thumbs around Andrew’s navel. “Salty and musky, but there’s something else, too. Something that only belongs to you.”
“Maybe it’s the part of you that comes out in me. You’re inside me, you know, even when we’re not fucking. Maybe you’re tasting your own heart.”
“My love.” Leonard lavished another long lick up the length of Andrew’s cock, then pulled off with seeming regret. “I’m tasting my own love, and it’s good.”
“Very good,” Andrew agreed as he spread his legs wider still. “Very, very good… oh!” Leonard had uncapped the lubricant and spread a dollop over his fingers, then pressed them up against his hole. The gel was cold compared to the warmth from the fire, but as the first finger entered, it was an icy hot burn.
“Tight. God, how can you always stay so tight?” Leonard prepared Andrew carefully, his own fat cock pressed up against his lower belly. “I’m always afraid that I’ll hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me. You could just drive me out of my mind with waiting, though,” Andrew said, bearing down on the fingers inside his channel. “No more playing around. Fuck me, Leonard. Fuck me the way I know you want to.”
Leonard swallowed hard. “How could I say no?” He poured more lube in his hand, and ran it up and down the length of his cock. “No one could say that when you’re spread out wide for me, ready to take me on. No one else has ever --”
“And they’d better not,” Andrew warned. “You’re mine, and I don’t share.”
“Don’t worry.” Leonard kissed one of Andrew’s knees. “It’s worth waiting a whole year for you when I know you’re being faithful to me, no matter what’s on the other side.”
“I’d save myself for you if I had a hundred men lined up at my door,” Andrew swore. “Do it now, Leonard. Put yourself inside me.”
Leonard lined the tip of his cock up to Andrew’s hungry hole, and pushed, too lightly at first. Andrew made an impatient sound and shoved back, meeting Leonard halfway, until the head of his cock popped inside. Leonard groaned, a deep sound that seemed to come from the center of his body. “You,” he gasped. “What you do to me…”
“Is nothing compared to what you do to me,” Andrew finished. “Now fuck me, Leonard. Like you never have before. As if you’ll never do it again.”
Because we never know which time will be the last, hung unspoken between them.
“Nevermore,” the raven muttered.
Andrew and Leonard fought to ignore the doomsayer as Leonard drove inside Andrew one inch at a time. Andrew writhed and arched his hips up as he was filled bit by wonderfully agonizing bit. After a whole year he was tight as a virgin, but the burning pleasure was something he wouldn’t trade for a million dollars.
When Leonard was seated to the base he stopped, breathing heavily, looking at Andrew eye to eye. “Hold my gaze,” he ordered. “I want to see everything you’re thinking while I fuck you.”
Andrew lifted his legs and wrapped them around Leonard’s back. “Then hurry up,” he ordered huskily. “I want to see what you’re thinking, too.”
Leonard pulled out a short distance, then pushed back in, his cock gliding smoothly on the copious slick of lube that he’d used. Andrew cried out as he was emptied and then filled, time and time again. Leonard built up a speed and a rhythm that soon made the room echo with the slap of flesh against flesh, the sound of their groans and cries, and the harsh rasp of their breathing.
Andrew reached for his own cock, desperate for attention, but Leonard batted his hand away. “That’s mine,” he growled, “and don’t you forget it. I’m going to finish what I started as soon as I… I… oh, fuck, oh, God, oh fuck…”
“That’s it,” Andrew urged, digging his heels against Leonard’s lower spine. He flung his head back, rolling it on the soft rugs. “I can feel you. You’re so close. Let it go, lover, let it all go. I need to feel you inside of me. All that warm seed coating me deep.”
“When you talk like that I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” Leonard thrust again, grabbed at Andrew’s shoulders, and looked him directly in the eyes as long as he could before they shut involuntarily and his face contorted, his body stiffening and then jerking forward, driving him in as deep as he could go, his hips snapping forward as if he wanted to go further. Andrew felt his lover’s spunk spurting into him, thick and heavy and hot, and almost came himself.
Leonard gasped for breath, sagging against Andrew for a long moment. Then, shakily, he withdrew in a gush of jism and lube and worked his way back down to Andrew’s cock. Andrew let him go almost reluctantly, hating to feel that long tool exiting his body, and his legs almost creaky from where he’d had them locked around Leonard’s back.
“I’m not a selfish lover,” Leonard said, as he had a dozen times before, during a dozen different fucks. He grasped the base of Andrew’s cock in one hot, slippery hand and lowered his mouth over the head, lashing the swollen flesh with his tongue, poking it into the slit, before sliding further down, taking in as much as he could until his mouth met his own fist. He began to work his way up and down, lacking finesse but possessing every ounce of enthusiasm that a man could have, sucking hard as a vacuum and battering Andrew’s cock with his tongue.
Already over-stimulated, Andrew could only bear a little of the treatment before he too arched up in pleasure, cried out something long and wordless, and emptied himself into Leonard’s mouth. He felt Leonard swallowing, taking in every drop, licking to catch what drips he might have missed. Then, all too soon, his mouth was off of Andrew’s cock, and his head hanging heavily between Andrew’s legs.
“Come here,” Andrew half-ordered, half-invited, holding his arms wide for Leonard to crawl up next to him and be held. Leonard moved slowly, like an old, old man, but made his way there and took hold of Andrew instead, turning them about until Andrew was spooned up in Leonard’s arms, back to chest, arms draped over Andrew’s stomach.
“Nevermore,” the raven warned.
Andrew closed his eyes tightly. “I hate that bird.”
“He’s right, though, and we both know it. Someday it will be nevermore.” Leonard’s fingers caressed Andrew’s temple. “But please, God, let that be a long time from now. You’re all I think about all year. There’s nothing else to do where I am, and looking forward to this night is just about all that keeps me going.”
“No other men to look at?”
“No one who could possibly compare to you.” Leonard kissed the back of Andrew’s scalp, nuzzling into the disheveled locks. “You’re all I need.”
“And you,” Andrew replied, nestling closer to Leonard.
“Nevermore,” the bird croaked. “Nevermore, nevermore, nevermore!”
Leonard had kept his wrist watch on during their love-making, and he raised it so that both Andrew and he could see the time. Barely one minute until midnight. “God, the time flew while we were fucking,” Leonard said with a mixture of awe and regret -- mostly regret. “Why isn’t it ever long enough?”
Andrew turned around in Leonard’s grasp. “Why do we have to part?” he begged. “Isn’t there some way you can stay here?”
“We’ve been over this before. There isn’t. At the stroke of midnight, I’ll be pulled back, and you’ll be alone. No, no, baby, don’t.” Leonard hugged Andrew close. “I’ll hold you in my arms until the clock strikes twelve. And then we’ll be together next year. You watch and see. I’ll be waiting for you next Halloween. I promise.”
“Nevermore.”
Andrew closed his eyes tightly. He could hear the seconds ticking down on Leonard’s watch, each one bringing them
closer to midnight, and the last thing he wanted was to feel his lover’s arms slipping away from him, and…
* * *
Leonard felt Andrew disappear before he opened his eyes to see that his lover was gone. He lay alone and naked on a pile of moth-eaten blankets, the taste of come still pungent in his mouth, but the air full of dust and bitterly cold. A fireplace that hadn’t been used in at least a hundred years stood blocked up in front of him and, when he turned around to look, a stuffed raven sat above the door to the room.
He shivered as he stood up reluctantly, reaching for his clothes. How many years had it been since he’d been up here one Halloween evening, looking for an old book among the ones that lined the shelves, and seen the world ripple, change before his eyes, until he was standing in a study with a gorgeous, honey-haired man staring back at him in surprise?
He had no idea when Andrew had become a ghost. Maybe no later than the eighteen-fifties, or possibly the eighteen-seventies. God, he knew so little about his lover. He didn’t know what Andrew had done for a living, or what he was like over tea and cookies as opposed to naked and rolling in his arms. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off one another from the moment they’d met.
Leonard shuddered as he dragged on his jeans and shrugged into his T-shirt. Midnight on Halloween, and another year to go before he could be with his Andrew again.
It was all right, though. He had his life to live in the 21st century. He could wait. He would wait, and he would be back, raven be damned. He glared up at the stuffed bird, its baleful glass eyes returning his hostile stare, and shot it the finger. “Nevermore, my ass,” he said defiantly. “You can’t keep us apart. I don’t care what you do.” Leonard closed his eyes, imagining he could still feel Andrew’s head pressed against his chest. “We’ll be together next year.”
* * *
“Nevermore,” the raven muttered as Andrew rose from the floor and stepped further back into his study. Leonard had disappeared again, just like he always did, and he was forgetting… forgetting… what had he been thinking?
Oh, yes. He was waiting for Leonard. It might be a while, though, so he’d need something to read. Running his finger along the line of dusty books, he started searching for one in particular that he wanted to read. Something to pass the long, long hours, time that sometimes seemed endless, until he saw his lover once again.
He found the book and retreated to his desk, determined to be patient and wait. He’d see Leonard again. “Won’t I, raven?” he asked his familiar, lurking bleakly above the chamber door.
And, flapping its wings wildly, as if it were caught in the midst of a hurricane, the raven replied, “Nevermore!”
Willa Okati
Willa Okati is one hundred percent in love all things vampire and supernatural. However, she’s an even bigger fan of stories that feature beautiful men exploring their desires for one another. Casually known as the “blue-haired, tattooed wench” among Changeling folks, she lives for the fun of acting just as young as she feels. She’d love for you to visit her website at http://www.willaokati.com or join her reader’s loop for fun and chatter at [email protected]. Happy reading!
