Onikoroshi Read online

  “Flying potion,” Alan said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “Yeah, I am. It’s a protective ointment. It should help to absorb any kind of magical attack the demon throws at us. Absorb, and maybe even deflect.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Well, I haven’t had occasion to test it, have I?” Alan said, unscrewing the lid.

  Grimacing, Graham covered his face. “Smells terrible! What on earth is in that stuff?”

  “You probably don’t want to know,” Alan said. “Out of your clothes. Once I rub this on you, it should absorb into your skin. You shouldn’t even notice it. You might feel some side effects, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “The ointment absorbs and amplifies magic,” Alan explained. “It will enhance my power. On you, well, you might feel a little giddy. Most people aren’t used to the sensation of magical energy.”

  Cautiously, Graham took off his clothes. He sat down on the futon and Alan knelt behind him, digging his fingers into the thick gel and scooping some out. Graham inhaled sharply when Alan spread it across his freckled shoulders.

  “Tingles,” Graham said.

  Alan anointed the rest of Graham’s back, taking his time to appreciate the warmth of Graham’s skin and the structure of his muscles. He noticed a familiar pink tint spreading over Graham’s complexion, and Graham pushed back against Alan’s touch. Leaning forward, Alan buried his nose in Graham’s thick locks. He inhaled deeply of his musky scent, and thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever breathed. Alan’s nipples went hard when they grazed Graham’s shoulder blades. Graham certainly noticed the brush of the little pearls of flesh, because his spine straightened and his breath shuddered. Lifting his face, Alan shook his head to clear it. Even after a year, Graham’s very presence aroused and intoxicated him. He doubted he’d ever lose his fascination with the other man.

  For now, he had to protect Graham. He coated every inch of Graham’s arms, back, and shoulders with his potion. It shone damply for a few seconds, then sunk into Graham’s skin, leaving only a faint, bluish glow. “I’ll need you to stand up and turn around now,” Alan said.

  When Graham did, Alan got a delicious surprise: Graham’s erect cock only an inch from his face. The berry-red tip poked out from his foreskin, and the network of thick, blue veins stood in sharp relief along his shaft. Alan could see Graham’s heartbeat forcing the blood into them, making Graham swell bigger and flush darker. A heady perfume of sweat and pre-come wafted up from Graham to Alan, and Alan’s body reacted, sprouting a throbbing erection to rival his partner’s.

  Graham’s graceful fingers wrapped around the base of his dick. Below them, Alan drank in the sight of Graham’s taut sac, dusted with golden hair. It hugged his nuts close to his body, the skin covered in dimples. More gilded fuzz grew down the insides of Graham’s thighs, and up the center of his flat belly. Feeling as though he saw all of this for the first time, almost feeling the wonder of an innocent, Alan lightly touched the blond down. Graham groaned at the brief contact and squeezed his shaft a few times. An ivory bead erupted from his slit. Without thinking, Alan’s tongue flitted out and wiped it away.

  A strangled cry escaped Graham’s throat. The fingers of his opposite hand wrapped around Alan’s chin and turned Alan’s face upward. Graham smiled down at Alan, his blue eyes glazed with lust and his cheeks stung with rose. “Will you suck it for me, love?” he asked. “I know there’s no time, but I want to feel it again. I want to be with you, just in case—”

  “Shh,” Alan said, bringing his face near Graham’s golden nest and the beautiful cock that sprouted from it. He lapped around Graham’s engorged head, harvesting the delectable fluid that coated it. His hand found Graham’s balls and he bounced their satisfying weight against his palm. His fist closed around them, and he squeezed and released as he sucked Graham’s tip into the tight tunnel of his mouth. He held it there, stimulating the underside groove with his tongue. Graham’s hand moved from Alan’s chin to the back of his neck, urging his forward. Happy to comply, Alan opened his throat to Graham’s body and swallowed his cock all the way down.

  Thrusting down a few times, Alan slid his mouth back to Graham’s head and sucked hard, enjoying another salty spurt of semen. He repeated the process, driving Graham’s cock into his throat and suckling the end. As he did, he never broke the contact with Graham’s lovely eyes. Graham looked ready to weep, and his lips trembled. After only a few minutes, Graham pushed against Alan’s shoulder.

  “Please stop.”

  Alan didn’t want to. Pleasuring Graham like this was one of the things he enjoyed most, and he was enjoying it more than he ever had. He noticed every tiny reaction of Graham’s body: the tiny twitches of his cock, the pressure of his fingertips against Alan’s neck, and the jerky, irregular way his diaphragm rose and fell. Graham looked so beautiful, staring down at him and watching him work. Being watched with such appreciation and love made Alan even more eager to please his partner.

  But Graham persisted, saying, “I don’t want to yet. I want to suck your cock, Alan. Then I want to fuck you. I want to be inside you.”

  Those words compelled Alan to hesitantly relinquish the treat in his mouth. He grasped Graham’s hips and pulled Graham to his knees, kissing him deeply. “I love you so much,” he said. “I know it doesn’t seem that way, after the things I’ve done, but I’d do anything for you, Graham.”

  “All you need to do is lie back,” Graham said.

  Alan did. He folded his arms beneath his head and Graham crouched over him. Graham’s hot, wet tongue circled the head of Alan’s cock, making it quiver and drip. He fought the urge to circle his hips, thrust up into Graham’s warm and eager throat. Instead he watched Graham’s face, his brows knit in concentration and his fair hair fluttering as he bobbed his head.

  Saliva coated Alan’s shaft and washed over his balls. It ran between his cheeks and pooled on the bamboo floor. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to shoot down Graham’s throat.

  Graham guided Alan’s knees up toward his shoulders. His hands spread Alan’s cheeks apart, while his mouth continued plunging down on Alan’s throbbing erection. Alan’s anus spasmed, eager to feel Graham’s body within it.

  “Touch me,” he begged.

  Releasing Alan’s dick, letting it smack against his stomach, Graham said, “Oh, I intend to. I just need to get you ready, first.” He buried his face in Alan’s crack, his quickening breath misting Alan’s flesh. Alan’s waist twisted in anticipation.

  “Do it,” Alan moaned, spreading his legs wider.

  Wasting no time, Graham’s tongue found his wrinkled opening and swiped back and forth across it, getting it wet. It went around the outer ring of muscle, then plunged inside. Alan cried out with pleasure. Graham’s tongue pushed its way inside his rectum, and Alan’s body clenched around it. Graham stabbed in again and again, until Alan’s flesh was relaxed, open, and sopping wet.

  When Graham sat up and wiped his mouth with his hand, Alan wrapped his ankles around Graham’s waist. He watched, intent and mad with arousal, as Graham gripped his thick, uncut cock and guided it toward his hole. The fat, purple head disappeared inside Alan, cleaving him apart, making him gasp.

  “You all right?” Graham panted.

  “Yeah,” Alan said. “Gods, don’t stop. Give me all of it.”

  Graham did, moving his thighs almost parallel with the floor and burying his big dick deep inside Alan. Alan shuddered at the penetration at first, then began to move his body against the other. He looked up at Graham’s reddened, sweat-slick face and said, “Love you.”

  “Love. To be in you,” Graham said, thrusting fast and hard, the friction intense against the rim of Alan’s ass. “Love you.”

  Reaching down, Alan squeezed the head of his dick. At the same moment, Graham speared into him and said, “Coming. Coming in you.”

  “Yes!” His body full of his lover’s cock, Alan stroked himself twice
and sprayed his stomach with white froth. His anus squeezed Graham rhythmically, drawing out a geyser of come. Graham’s head thrashed, and he collapsed against Alan, breathing hard. He continued to press his softening dick into Alan, and the pleasure of it summoned another white spurt from Alan’s trembling penis. He also felt more hot moisture pouring into him. Though barely able to move his muscles, Alan twined Graham in his arms and legs, holding him close.

  For a long time, longer than Alan thought they should spare, they just held each other. Graham’s heart beat against Alan’s chest, a staccato rhythm that eventually slowed until Alan worried that Graham had fallen back asleep. He wanted nothing more himself than to rest this way, satisfied, loved, and twisted within Graham’s warm limbs. The time for pleasure had passed, though. Now was the time to fight.

  “Graham,” Alan said. “You awake?”

  “I am.”

  “I need to put the rest of the salve on you. We need to gather water, and meet Harada. It’s nearly time.”

  “Any chance of a quick bath?” Graham asked. “I find myself— a little sticky.”

  Alan couldn’t help laughing. “You’d wash off the protective coating, silly.”

  “Oh, right. I guess there’s nothing for it. Let’s get this done.”

  * * * *

  As Alan and Graham walked across the village square in new yukata, heather-grey swirled with cream for Graham and white with black and red flowers for Alan, the citizens of Inaba gathered on the sides of the street. Somehow, word of what they would attempt reached these people. Many of them bowed as the two men passed by. Others nodded their heads with respect and gratitude. A tiny girl in a pink kimono presented Alan with a branch of sunflowers.

  “Arigato,” she said, grinning until her eyes became crescents. “Good luck!”

  Harada-sensei waited by the makeshift stage where the drummers and dancers performed. He’d obviously bathed, and donned a fresh pair of khaki trousers and a happi coat from a local temple. Seeing the old man smile made Alan realize he hadn’t witnessed it until now.

  “Harada-san,” he said, bowing. “Is everything in order?”

  “Hai. Here are the sutra scrolls.” He handed over the crumbling, curled bits of paper and Alan stuffed them into the pockets of his jeans. “Here is the powder.” Alan put the clay container into his bag. “And the camphor wood spears!” Harada exclaimed proudly. “I carved them myself!” He held out two woven rice sacks, each emblazoned with a cartoonish fox and stuffed full of sharpened, wooden stakes. Alan took one, tied the twine drawstring to his belt loop, and passed the other to Graham.

  “Do you have everything you need?” Alan asked Harada.

  “Hai, I certainly do,” the old man replied, showing Alan half a dozen beer bottles full of gasoline and stuffed with bits of rag. To complete the display, he unfurled his ancient fingers to reveal a black plastic lighter.

  “Let’s go,” Graham said.

  The people in attendance applauded. The trio made their way to the edge of the village and entered the forest. Darkness enveloped them, the broad tree leaves obscuring the moon and starlight. Alan clutched his messenger bag. Even the sounds of the woods, the songs of the insects and the calls of the creatures leaving among these branches sounded foreign, so different from home. Debris crunched beneath his boots. Alan knew they looked foolish with his traditional robes, but he didn’t want to do battle in his wobbly, wooden clogs. He looked down at his exposed wrist. It glowed softly. To his left, Graham shone like a sapphire carving. Good. The magic was strong; Graham was protected.

  Harada made his way easily along the twisted woodland trails, Graham and Alan following. Soon they’d reached the torii gate that marked the cemetery. So far, it looked desolate, peaceful even. A thin layer of mist covered the ground, obscuring the bases of the old markers, but nothing moved or stirred.

  “Go and hide among those trees,” Harada whispered, pointing a wizened finger toward the opposite end of the graveyard. “I will wait by the gate. When the dead rise up, I will lead them away.”

  “Be careful,” Graham said, squeezing the man’s thin shoulder.

  “Go now,” Harada instructed.

  Graham and Alan picked their way between the stones until they reached an old tree at the opposite end. They crouched down behind the massive trunk, and waited.

  * * * *

  The night wore on, the sky darkening from cobalt almost to black. A light breeze herded a few stray clouds across the sky, but mostly the evening was clear and bright. A nearly-full moon ascended toward the center of the heavens, and it didn’t take long for Alan’s eyes to adjust to the silvery light. Not that he saw anything. The music, drumming, and cheerful voices in the village had stopped dead as soon as it got dark. Occasionally a fox yipped somewhere up the mountain. Leaves rustled softly, but otherwise it was quiet.

  “I’m starting to think he’s not going to show,” Graham whispered. “Maybe he’s gone away.”

  Alan shook his head. “I doubt it.” He saw Harada’s silhouette leaning against the gate. For probably the tenth time, he checked his arsenal. Everything was ready. “I just want this over with,” Alan said. His back slid down a trunk and his ass settled in the damp, high grass. He watched Graham playing with the Nordic amulet Alan had given him: a piece of Narwhal horn carved with protective runes that dangled from a leather cord. Graham also wore a turquoise and silver Navajo ring meant to ward off evil. Perhaps most powerful of all, Graham and Alan each wore a pendant carved from the walnut tree that they’d blessed together. It stood in their backyard, carved with mementos of Graham’s former love affairs, stretching its enchanted branches in a shield over their home. Alan’s thumb rubbed the smooth wood, getting antsy and glad of its presence. Alan tried to take solace in the idea that Graham was as well-protected as a person could be.

  Another hour passed before Alan noticed the fog gathering at the center of the cemetery. He rose to his knees for a better view. A shimmering column of mist formed between the two tallest monuments and began to spin into a tunnel, drawing in leaves and twigs. In the blink of an eye it dissipated, and a figure stood where it had been. Squinting, Alan assessed the creature. It stood well over six feet tall, and its lacquered sandals added another several inches. It wore black pants with a dull sheen, and three or four layers of printed robes. Ebony hair that seemed alive in the way it moved and twisted of its own accord hung almost to the demon’s knees. A long, black horn grew from the right side of his head, just above his temple. It reached out to the side, the very tip curving like a corkscrew. Another, shorter horn protruded from his thick hair a little further back. Golden rings, jewels, and dangling chains embellished both.

  The demon began to stroll about the graveyard, looking about with boredom and contempt clear on the face that Alan could finally see. He was beautiful; the monk’s drawing did him no justice. He had skin like white silk. It glowed with its own luminescence. The slant of his eyes conveyed mischief, yearning, and morbidity in an incomprehensible mix. Black jewels sparkled beneath his slightly drooping lids. Possibly he wore some sort of make-up on his eyes, but Alan couldn’t be sure. His lips, curled in a joyless smirk, also looked darkened cosmetically. His features held an appeal that no human could aspire to, but Alan couldn’t say why. His lips were full and shapely, cheekbones high but not too severe, and chin perfectly pointed. But something else made the demon fascinating: an unnamable quality in the way he moved about the space, brushed his hair back, adjusted his elaborate garments, and batted his thick lashes.

  After a while the demon grew tired of circling the stones and stroking some of them like pets. He leaned his back against an obelisk and regarded his long, black nails. Alan was so enthralled that he leaned far forward, not even bothering to conceal himself. A demon! An actual demon! He was nothing like Alan had expected, and that just reaffirmed his desire to continue his studies and experiments. There was still so much about the world that he didn’t understand.

  “You’ll be
seen!” Graham hissed, tugging Alan back into the shadows by the elbow.

  “Sorry. Look at him, Graham.”

  “Freezes my blood. Take him down and let’s get out of here.”

  “We have to wait for Harada.”

  “But I don’t see any corpses,” Graham said, a little panicked. “Maybe he’s used them all up.”

  “The people of Inaba have been burying their dead here for hundreds of years. We have to wait a little longer.”

  Moving closer to Alan, Graham nodded. Alan cupped his knee.

  Out in the graveyard, the demon seemed to ascend invisible steps to perch atop a plain memorial. The way he balanced on the edge in his high-platformed shoes betrayed his supernatural nature as nothing before had. Crouching with his elbows near his knees, he took a bamboo flute from his flowing sleeve. Lifting it to his lips, he began to play.

  Alan felt the earth beneath him tremble. He had to grasp Graham’s shoulder to keep from falling. Another tremor shook the ground, vibrating the trees and stones. Alan felt it in his teeth. The demon blew on his flute, summoning a haunting, heartbeat melody. The soil churned like boiling water. Clumps of turf flew as dead hands clawed their way to the surface. The tempo of the song picked up, drawing both the recently and long-deceased above ground. Graves yawned wide as their occupants struggled to free themselves. Half a hundred corpses, ranging from those so fresh that they looked pallid but alive, to skeletons without the thinnest strip of flesh, stood around the demonic musician.

  The arms of the dead swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the flute. Bones rattled and decrepit tendons creaked while their feet stamped the ground, adding percussion to the song. Those that had hips or waists to move did so. A circle of writhing flesh surrounded the demon, and he stepped down from his stone to dance among them. He kicked his feet and spun around, a graceful and intoxicating display. Hair and silk swirled about him. His lips parted in a smile, revealing strong, ivory teeth and pointed bicuspids.