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Part One: A Dish Best Served Warm

Jacob had made two promises to himself. One: he would never again hike during the winter. And two: he would invest in hiking shoes with a triple-digit price tag. Shoes that came with grip.

For the sake of his poor head, he would hike no later than mid-autumn. A crisp wind blew through the beaten track of the forest. The soil lay concealed beneath millions of fiery leaves, oranges and reds painting the earth for miles. Their crunching underfoot broke the constant rustle from the branches above.

Autumn was the proverbial Goldilocks, neither too hot nor too cold. The alternatives were almost freezing to death—again—or having Jake lap up all his sweat after several gruelling hours of summer hiking.

Why the eccentric wendigo loved sweat so much, Jacob didn't know. He didn't dare ask.

Late autumn also signalled the end of ordinary hikers. The cabin where they had spent their first night together would go untouched until the spring. Jacob no longer had to camp miles from the closest trail just to meet with Jake. They would have a cosy cabin all to themselves.

Leaves crunched. Jacob flinched—they didn't come from underfoot. To his right. They stopped when he stopped. He spun on the spot. The clearing was empty.

It was too loud to be a rabbit. A deer? He peered around the closest tree to spot only dozens more, an endless maze of bark.

The hairs on his neck prickled. He shook his head and smacked his cheeks. Noises outside his apartment didn't faze him, so why should this? He had scared a rabbit, and it rushed into the safety of a bush—for good reason. What if Jake was around? And speaking of Jake, Jacob had already made friends with the most frightening inhabitant of the forest. What more did he have to fear?

“Wait," he said, mumbling to himself. “Does this forest have bears?" After several seasons of hiking here, he ought to have known.

But he wasn't a very good hiker.

With that uneasy thought rolling around his head, he quickened his pace, jolting his gaze to every gap between the trees. He focused on the leaves underfoot to learn the noisy rhythm of his steps. The forest remained quiet. It was only him.

And the leaves crunching behind him—the flapping of feathers. Jacob twisted around and shielded his face.

Nothing.

A trail of leaves danced in the air, only to flutter back to the earth.

That was not his imagination. Rooted to the spot, he fumbled his hand against his pants, grabbing his pocketknife. He held it close to his chest. Sweat trickled down his hair and dripped onto his lips, sour salt on his tongue.

“Jake?"

The wind picked up, rushing through the winding corridors of trees.

“This isn't funny, Jake."

Jacob's shoulders locked up as an echo returned his voice. And his chest stung as the wind's rising howl devoured his words.

Jake was playful, yes—but not mean. He had never engaged in anything resembling a prank. So why did Jacob think this was him?

Because the alternative—that it wasn't Jake—terrified him.

A sharp crack from behind. Jacob lurched around. The ground lay undisturbed, blockaded by trees. But something rolled atop the autumn foliage. Something grey.

A stone.

It tumbled away from a tree—its bark shattered from the impact—and came to a clumsy rest beside a protruding root. Along its edge was a streak of red.

Jacob swallowed. Acting on their own, his legs took slow steps closer. His head jerked over his shoulder as he stretched out a shaking arm. His fingers pinched the stone, avoiding the red stain, and with held breath he pulled it from the root. The stone rolled onto his palm. Jacob needed several seconds to grasp the smudged red, but those deliberate strokes tore the air from his lungs.

Bloody letters. Look up.

His neck twisted toward the canopy. Scores of tangled branches eclipsed the sky. Their golden leaves scattered with a gust of wind, and a black blur dove at him.

Jacob hadn't time to scream. It slammed into his back, shoving him to the dirt. Dry leaves scratched his face and claws clenched his shoulders. He was pinned. The attacker kicked him again, and rapid-fire flaps boomed in his ears as they launched off his back.

Jacob flipped around, his hand gripped hard around his pocketknife.

The clearing was empty. Amidst falling leaves, a black feather twirled through the air. The wind blew it behind a tree.

Jacob jumped to his feet, searching the canopy for whatever winged beast attacked him. His hand clenched tighter and tighter around his only weapon until it hurt more than his back. He paced around the clearing, twisting and turning, not looking down, not allowing a moment's weakness. His eyes shot toward every rustle no matter how slight.

“Come on out, you bastard!"

His shoulder bumped a tree. Jacob sidestepped it, and feathered arms lurched around his chest.

“Get off me!" Jacob thrashed, but the attacker tightened their grip and twisted his wrist. His pocketknife slipped from his fingers. Sharps flashed before him, golden glints at his neck. He croaked as pressure dug into his jugular. His arms trembled, and self-preservation swallowed his fight.

He went still.

The sharp points at his neck softened. But as Jacob breathed, a hand cupped his throat and forced up his chin. Taloned fingers stroked his skin, and a piercing clack stung his ears. Something wet clamped over his earlobe.

“My, what warmth my talons caress." That lurid rasp of a voice reduced Jacob to shivers. “With nary a flirt, your heart flutters to my touch."

A muggy huff wet Jacob's cheek. He couldn't breathe.

“A daunted wretch like you burns hot." With a flap of wings and a croaky snicker, the bird spoke in foreboding mockery. “Tremble, my little sparrow, for I have caught you…"

His gravelly voice curdled Jacob's gut—and stirred some horrible, primal urge. He indeed trembled, unable to handle such contrast. He lurched his arms halfheartedly, his mind unsure of whether it desired escape.

The attacker loosened their grip, letting Jacob lift one arm free. His hand shot for the warm arm wrapped around his chest. He shifted his fingers through soft feathers and traced his nails upward, toward the taloned hand squeezing at his neck. Those warm feathers dissolved into cold keratin, natural armour.

A husky chuckle bathed Jacob's cheek in heat. The beast bit down, taking his entire ear into their mouth, and his face flushed as mumbled moans and wet sucks consumed his hearing. His heart flipped between excitement and terror on the mere croak of a word.

“My prey, my delectable little sparrow…will thy heart beat for sweet nothings? Will thy soul be burdened from these haunting words?"

Jacob wheezed the only word his compressed throat and confused mind could form.

“W-what?"

“You, are, mine."

His leg muscles must have melted. Why else would they shake so frantically? To add to his sudden weakness, a deep, rolling groan whispered into his ear made his thoughts fuzzy, and he did the worst possible thing.

He moaned back.

A laugh dripping with glee goaded Jacob toward that primal urge, toward his submission. His body yearned to submit.

“Mine," the beast growled. “Mine, mine, mine…"

And those words weren't helping him resist.

A second set of golden talons raked at his chest. In one slow swipe, they rolled down his torso, cleanly tearing his shirt in two. Their tips stroked his stomach. Jacob shuddered, but a reflexive grasp for that guarded hand coaxed more pressure from the one at his neck, forcing him to yield, forcing him to surrender his belly to that menacing stroke of talons. He could only whimper and watch as four sharp hooks clawed under the waistband of his pants. They groped his tented underwear.

At Jacob's neck, one talon glided over his chin and pinched his lower lip. As an eager tongue soaked his ear, his captor breathed another steamy huff.

“Open wide, my sparrow."

A firm squeeze of Jacob's hips kept him from stumbling. He opened his mouth to welcome the talon in. Its sharp tip rolled over his tongue, and Jacob needed no prompting; he sealed his lips and sucked.

Another throaty chuckle. Two terrible words worsened his daze.

“Good boy."

While his captor pumped their finger down to its knuckle, tickling the back of Jacob's throat, the hand at his crotch dug beneath his underwear. Cold talons stroked his cock.

But then they fell still. Jacob whined, but the bird only nibbled his earlobe, and with a pinch and a pull, stretched his ear until it plopped from their beak.

The talon slipped from Jacob's lips, and the fiend spoke. “The dirges of your lust dawn from thy beating heart. Methinks your sin laments, implores to be marked, yearns to be mine."

Jacob cared not what half those words meant. “Please."

The hand at his neck clenched, twisting his head to the side. He only glimpsed the gold-tinged edges of a beak before they clamped around his cheeks, and a slimy tongue thrust between his lips. As it coiled around his own, Jacob returned a groan. Talons firmed at his throat once more, refusing release, refusing his breath, and refusing any escape from the beast's deep covetous kiss.

The beak squeezed harder against Jacob's cheeks. “Mine, for evermore."

Even when the bird broke the kiss, he still refused Jacob sight of them, shoving his head into the warm feathers of their neck. Once there, talons stroked his sweat-clumped hair, and another pair fondled his cock—tortuously slow—but enough to make Jacob buck his hips, no care for the sharp implements within his underwear.

As Jacob groaned into the feathery chest, the creature chuckled. “Marvelling this gainly fowl, are we?"

Jacob mumbled approval into the feathers.

“That's funny." His suave voice fizzled to a snarl. “Did I give you permission to enjoy this?"

Jacob tensed as the beast tore their talons from his underwear and shoved him away. He stumbled backwards, swinging his arms to keep balance, but a black leg swung out and kicked him in the chest. He crumpled to the leaves below.

With grit teeth and ribs pulsing in pain, Jacob rolled onto his shoulder. “Fuck! What was that for?" He lifted his head, expecting the beast to have again vanished.

Not this time.

A black bird sneered down at him, his slender silhouette resembling a feathered human. His talons shone like gold razors. Both tips of his beak shared a similar shine, as did faint streaks of colour dispersed throughout his midnight coat of feathers. At Jacob's glare, he raised his hand. He had Jacob's pocketknife pinched between two talons. And without so much as a flinch, he stabbed his palm.

Jacob recoiled. “Holy shit."

But the avian pulled back the pocketknife, revealing an unharmed hand and a blade snapped in half, its once-sharp tip reduced to a flat horizontal. The keratin around his talons was tougher than metal. Cackling, he tossed the now-worthless weapon to the wayside and splayed his wings, curtaining the rays of light that scantly peeked through the canopy.

“At last," he said between hoarse laughter. “At long last… I betook myself to tracing your wretched journey—and to my delight your languid pace, no doubt burdened by your sin, promised no escape." His eyes glowed like raging wildfires, wide and unhinged. “I caught you."

“What the hell is your problem?" Jacob kicked himself backwards, unable to unshackle his eyes from the black-feathered terror.

Those fiery eyes burned into Jacob's soul. The fowl field paced closer, not allowing his prey a foot of distance. “Does my charm beguile fear and longing? I certainly hope, for thy melancholy upon the facade's fade will quench my ache."

“English, you bastard. Speak English."

“With pleasure, you uncultured oaf, for I bore of these theatrics." The bird's plumage seemed to flutter, not caught by the wind, but rocked by a trembling deep within his core. “You must forgive my enthusiasm. It's just that I've just been waiting for this moment for so-very long."

“I don't even know who you are, dickhead."

“I know who you are, Jacob." His tongue swiped across his beak, smearing drool over the gold. “I know you all too well."

What an absolute creep. Trying to forget how much he lusted over this basket case moments earlier, Jacob shoved his palm to the dirt to push himself up.

But the avian lunged with a flap so quick his wings blurred. “Stay still, worm!"

Glinting talons slammed into Jacob's chest. He croaked, lungs wrung of air, and shoved at the talons, though his efforts coaxed their razor tips to clench against the exposed flesh of his chest. Above, a throaty chuckle hounded his fruitless squirms. Crazed eyes loomed down at him, the colour of an autumn forest set ablaze. Rabid.

“This is it—true perfection." The bird lurched his head to the sky and cackled madly. “Perched and sat upon your chest, a ghastly grim and ancient raven, wrapt in the rapturous glee of revenge. Shriek for me, worm!"

“What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The raven narrowed his glare and growled, head swivelling left and right, raspy breaths quickening at the sight of his pinned prey. “You would stand to gain from greater comprehension. I repeat: I am relishing the bliss of long-yearned revenge." He leaned his maniacal visage closer and licked his beak. “And what delight it brings; you look so desolate, Jacob, lost in this second home. That helpless terror will sweeten my dreams."

Jacob tasted blood. “Like, really, are you trying to be a knock-off super villain or something?"

“You, of all accursed creatures that trample upon Lenore's great green earth, should know who I am."

“Other than a pretentious asshole, can't say that I do." Jacob forced a glare, but it's hard to be intimidating while pinned beneath talons. “You best have a explanation for this—before I pluck out your feathers one by one."

The raven's foot pinched Jacob's chest. “You'll die of blood loss before your unclean hands strip even a dozen." He splayed his wings once more, hiding the sun. His razor-sharp beak inched closer to Jacob's eyes.

Jacob shivered as the afternoon warmth dissipated beneath the raven's shadow.

“Though I suppose I owe you a name," the bird croaked, retreating his beak, “a name that will sear deep within your soul, like a raven perched above your chamber door, haunting you for the rest of your days."

“Out with it, you prick."

“Nothing further shall be uttered, not even a feather that I fluttered, not until your voice I hear muttered."

“I'm not muttering another word."

“Then we raise the curtains on our play, dearest Jacob. The crowd lulls to a hush, welcoming the third act, our finale, eager to witness your comeuppance." The bird tilted his head, failing to hide a smirk. “Learn of my name and recall your sin. Address this wretched terror of the night as Chirpy."

Jacob broke into a laughing snort. “W-what? Chirpy?"

“Bastard!" The raven's arm shot out—his talons pierced the leaves beside Jacob's neck. “Even now, you dare to mock me?"

“Because that's an absurd name!" Made more hilarious by that ostentatious arrogance. Croaky would be more fitting for a raspy-tongued raven, for not a sound or syllable uttered by this bird resembled a lyrical chirp.

Yet that name sounded familiar.

Horribly familiar.

Jacob's spine itched. Where had he heard it before?

“Wait." Jacob squinted, mind reeling, gripped by the sinking sensation of imminent insanity. “That Chirpy? That tiny bird, the one that lived in the nest on Jake's horns?"

The bird crossed his arms to his midsection, his weight pressed onto Jacob's chest, laughing. It was a staccato laugh, building on itself, broadening to a breathless gasp, the laughter that marks a pause in the progress of the world, the laughter of someone who smoked twenty packs a day for twenty years.

Damn. This bird can laugh.

Once it fizzled to a wheezed croak, Chirpy wiped a tear from his eye. “The very same. Surprised?"

“I…suppose it makes some sense." It didn't. Jacob had more questions than his mind could hold. “Jake had said you'd grown up, but…I wasn't expecting you to be so, so…"

“So…?"

Hot.

“Big."

Chirpy's smirk widened. “Lenore learned of my pleas for revenge and graciously lent her aid. For the past nine months, a bountiful growth spurt she has blessed me with."

Only nine months, and he's bigger than me? Jacob shook his head. This was the most unnatural creature he had ever met—and he had met Jake! He hoped he was dreaming, for Chirpy's size wasn't even the most perplexing part of his existence.

“I also wasn't expecting you to be so…talkative," said Jacob. “I mean, you used to be a bird. A normal baby bird." And Jacob refused to recall his sexual escapades in front of said baby bird.

“Is that pitiful memory the excuse for your sin? Such unforgivable acts crave greater contrition."

“Contrition for what? And what about you?" Jacob gestured at the talons planted atop his chest. “Have you got an excuse for trying to rip open my chest?"

“I'm not trying." Chirpy's talons drummed against Jacob's flesh, one icy tip stroking over his nipple. “You'll know when I try."

“Great." Jacob forced the warmest smile his drool-covered cheeks could muster; that kiss was wetter than it looked. “Now that introductions are out of the way, mind taking your foot off my heart?"

“Nay," quoth the raven. “Why forgo the bliss of crushing you beneath my heel? This is where a loathsome worm like you belongs, Jacob. Your freedom, nevermore."

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? And I don't mean the eldritch growth spurt or this whole Edgar-Allan-Poe-talking-bird schtick you got going on."

“I've uttered my aim a multitude, have I not? Revenge."

“Again, what the hell did I do to you?"

“Speak my name."

Jacob paused, taking in that ominous bird of yore. The fiend's intentions remained as oblique as his midnight cloak of feathers.

“It's…Chirpy."

“Indeed." The corners of Chirpy's beak twitched. “How I despise that baneful name. But my hatred burns hotter for the wretch who branded me with that humiliating moniker."

“Jake?"

Chirpy spat, narrowly missing Jacob's cheek. “Mind your tongue, worm. I speak only of the foul craven of a man who tricked dad into scarring me with such a name."

“Who?"

“Who!?" Chirpy's eyes bulged, and he squawked with rage. “You, Jacob! A billion curses upon you!"

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, hold up!" Jacob shielded his face, afraid the tantruming bird would stab his neck. “You've got the wrong end of the stick here, buddy!"

“I haven't misunderstood a thing." Chirpy's pupils had dilated, and his whole body shook. “You cursed me, an innocent child, to a life of mockery—all for a lark. Why, damn you? Was Chirpy the best you could come up with?"

“Listen to me! I didn't name you. That was Jake, all Jake."

With a rising growl, Chirpy clenched Jacob's shoulders, talon tips digging against skin. The raven's eyes, now close enough to lay claim to the forest behind them, seemed to flare. “Have you no shame, deflecting your sin onto dad? I beseech thee—take responsibility for your actions."

“I've got nothing to take responsibility for! Jake, your dad, not me, came up with the name."

“Liar." Chirpy sniffed. “Dad told me you gave him the name. He sounded so happy about it."

“Chirpy, seriously, there's been a misunderstanding—a big one. We need to sort it out before it gets out of hand." It was already out of hand; that deranged raven's voice projected such fury and resentment.

And worst of all, malevolent glee. When four sets of talons could puncture flesh in the blink of an eye, that threat of revenge had Jacob's heart beating in his ears.

“Your desperate lies won't sway me." Chirpy leaned closer and nuzzled his sharp beak against Jacob's cheek. The clammy whisper of his words tingled his ear. “Nine months I've waited, nine months I've plotted, all to devise a humiliation worthy of the sort you inflicted upon me. I won't give you a chance, not a fleeting hope to cast off your fate, to escape your richly deserved punishment."

Needle tips scraped across Jacob's skin. "What are you…planning to do?"

“Remember my words and let them sear your mind." Chirpy clicked his tongue against Jacob's ear. “I will make you mine—mine in the most belittling manner imaginable, a comeuppance to besmirch your soul with a disgrace never to be cleansed, a victim to the foulest machination conceived since your very own conception."

Jacob hated this prick. But more than that, he hated his try-hard art student vocabulary, he hated how all that pretentiousness didn't distract from the tantalising rasp of his voice, and most of all, most of all, he hated how goddamn hot he sounded.

“That's right, Jacob." Chirpy rested the golden tip of his beak against the bridge of his nose, its chilly veneer melting with the huff of his words. Their eyes locked. “I'm going to sit on you."

Jacob smirked. “Real funny. That's the best you've got?"

“It's only the start." Chirpy licked Jacob's nose, a mockingly slow lick. “Once I've crushed your soul, I'll claim everything else. Shall we begin?"

“Wait, this isn't a joke?"

“Of course not." Chirpy spread his wings. “Today is the day I perch upon your face—my own bust of Pallas—and at long last bring my fruition to revenge."

“Revenge to fruition."

“Y-yes, that." Chirpy cleared his throat. “Let your penance commence."

This was his idea of revenge? Really? Jacob was no stranger to eldritch beasts sitting on him, though the last one had done it to warm him up, not as punishment. And certainly not as punishment for something he hadn't done.

But unfortunately for Chirpy, Jacob liked getting sat on. He liked a lot of things.

And he planned on getting everything he liked. “I want a kiss."

“Excuse me?"

“I liked that earlier kiss," said Jacob, “before you so rudely interrupted it. For any punishment to prove effective, you should first make my heart soar—before you crush it beneath your rump."

Chirpy scoffed, but then glee widened his beak, and a raspy chuckle twitched his plumage. He stroked his talons under Jacob's chin. “Very well, Jacob. I shall send you to heaven…before I send you to hell."

What horrid media was Jake feeding his impressionable son?

Chirpy leaned closer, taunting Jacob with a sultry, bedroom-eyed look of longing. “Consider this restraint a mercy undeserved." He opened his mouth and moved in for the kiss. His warm, feathery chest swept across Jacob's bare skin. His beak tips grazed Jacob's lips, then gripped his cheeks. Their sharp hooks dug into his skin.

“Ow!"

Chirpy flinched and flapped backwards, ending the kiss before it began. “What? What did I do?"

Jacob rubbed the sting, checking for blood. “That hurt, idiot."

“But, but I used the same pressure as before—the same technique!"

“Yeah, but that was hot because some terrifying stranger was having their way with me. This is meant to be gentle. Romantic."

“Oh." Chirpy ran a talon over his scalp, ruffling his head feathers. “I don't have much…experience with that."

“Huh. Awkwardness is a cute look on you."

“Shut it, worm." Those golden talons flexed in front of Jacob's eyes. “Tell me what you want before I clamp down again."

“Take it easy!" Jacob held his palms out flat, hoping to soothe the young bird's angst. “You've got a sharp beak and sharper talons, so go slow, don't add any force. Just enough to keep us locked."

Chirpy grabbed Jacob's wrist and lifted his hand, bringing it to his beak. The two halves squeezed gently around his fingers, bathing them in warmth. “Like that?" he mumbled.

“Yeah, that's good. Oh!" Jacob tugged his fingers free and rested his arms atop the leafy ground, hands on opposite sides of his head, palms facing up. “Hold my hands, nice and tight."

Chirpy leaned in, his feathered weight swallowing Jacob's chest. “Pinned beneath me, where you belong…" His voice had returned to its deep, sensual menace. His hands slid down Jacob's arms, golden tips gliding over his wrists. Talons interlocked between Jacob's fingers, squeezing tight.

“No escape," he huffed. “All mine."

How is this asshole so goddamn cute?

Those talons rubbed the sensitive skin between Jacob's fingers. Their chill surface proved a rousing contrast to the raven's body heat. Jacob quivered as silklike feathers covered him like a blanket, shielding him from the wind.

“You're so warm."

Chirpy snickered. “Yet you shiver like a coward on the eve of his execution. I feel your fear."

“I want to sleep on your chest feathers…"

Those fiery eyes narrowed. “Stop pretending to be brave and tremble, worm."

Jacob lifted his head from the ground. His face reached for the dense plumage at Chirpy's neck, those black feathers fluttering in the breeze. “Only after a kiss," he said. “Claim me with a kiss."

A rumbling growl rocked Jacob's body, but Chirpy relented; he closed his eyes and leaned in. Sharp beak tips glided over Jacob's cheeks without a nudge of pressure. As their tongues met, a puff of air warmed his mouth. He tugged his hands from Chirpy's grip and wrapped his arms around the raven's back—hands sliding beneath wings, fingers breezing through feathers.

A gentle heartbeat hidden beneath the warmth kneaded Jacob's chest. Chirpy gave a happy croak and drove the kiss deeper. His tongue stroked Jacob's, smearing an earthy tang, while his mumbled moans tickled Jacob's lips.

But Chirpy wasn't focused on only the kiss. Blinded by feathers, Jacob couldn't see, but he could certainly feel the grinding at his crotch, something firm and slender rubbing against his tented pants.

Every buck of Chirpy's hips coaxed a soft moan from the pair, huffed into their joined mouths. Jacob clenched two handfuls of back feathers beside the joints of Chirpy's wings, and the raven responded in kind; he flapped and ran his talons over Jacob's scalp. Tingling tenderness left him trembling.

Chirpy's other set of talons scritched at Jacob's chest, shimmying down his belly. They pinched beneath the waistband of his pants, and a tug tore the button off. Though it eased the pressure around his underwear, Jacob groaned in protest.

He had just bought that pair.

But moans soon stifled his complaints. Chirpy's cock—seemingly prehensile—squeezed against his underwear, nudging beside his, separated by a thin layer of sweat-soaked fabric. Chirpy half hummed, half chuckled as his length frotted against Jacob's, their tongues still exploring each other's mouths.

Jacob glided his hands down Chirpy's back. Feathers weaved between his fingers and tickled his palms. He soon stroked a tuft of erect tail feathers. Jacob tugged a few—forceful enough to make Chirpy twitch and grunt—before reaching beyond, reaching for his prize. His fingertips clawed through the fluff, gripping two soft mounds. He fondled inwards, tracing down the supple curve of the bird's butt, teasing the warm hole hidden where the feathers thinned.

Chirpy yelped as fingers prodded his rim. His wings thrashed, his cock lurched, and his talons clenched Jacob's skin. Jacob added more pressure to the hole. With a squawk and a needy moan, Chirpy arched his back, breaking the kiss. A string of drool connected their tongues. It gleamed in the afternoon sun.

Chirpy broke the strand with a swipe of his tongue, and he leaned in to lick Jacob's lips. His half-lidded eyes glared at the object of his desire—and his revenge.

Chirpy wiggled his butt. “Marvelling my gainly rump, are we?"

Jacob gripped harder, squeezing and kneading. “I could sleep on it."

“Good. You'll get your wish, but you'll be sleeping under it." Chirpy's eyes brightened. “Because my rump is going on your face."

“Yeah, you've said. I just hope it tastes as good as your tongue." Jacob licked his lips. “Tasted like walnuts."

“Is that so shocking? I like walnuts."

“I assumed an edgy bastard like you would love meat."

“Oh, you're not wrong. I love juicy chunks of meat."

Jacob gasped as Chirpy clenched the hardening bulge of his underwear. The raven didn't look back, keeping his eyes locked onto Jacob's, burning red poised in a snooty, imperious glare.

“Tell me, Jacob"—Chirpy took a quick pump of Jacob's cock—“what would you say to me having a little…nibble?"

He snapped his beak, and slobber smacked Jacob's face.

Jacob couldn't see either of their cocks beneath feathers enveloping his form, but reflecting on the offer, as fun as Chirpy's tongue had been entwined his own, having an inexperienced, mentally developing, edgy arch-enemy sharp-beaked bird sucking his dick sounded like a bad idea.

“I might pass," Jacob said.

Chirpy tsked and shook his head. “How cowardly. How fitting. Though you needn't fret. Whilst I pass on my main course, yours is ready for serving."

Jacob groaned. “Surely kissing me was much nicer than revenge or whatever bollocks you're so hung up about."

“Nonsense. Nothing could ever exceed the bliss of putting you in your place. And I mustn't delay, as that would let the anger fade." Chirpy threw his head back and squawked. “For we all know revenge is a dish best served…sweltering!"

“God, just shut up and sit on me already." Jacob smacked both ass cheeks. “See if I care."

“You will." Chirpy cackled, as unhinged as a door after a SWAT team had their way with it. A sharp rasp for air cut his laughter short. “I'll make sure of it."

With those ominous words lingering in the wind, he rose, his taloned feet clenching through the leaves. Jacob gave both cheeks one last pinch as they slipped from his grasp. Those feathers left Jacob's waist, and he finally glimpsed his own lustful ache—wet fabric swollen tall, straining to contain his cock.

And he also glimpsed Chirpy's cock. Entirely prehensile, it swayed with the breeze, long and slender, its tip dribbling. It looked almost alien, lacking balls or a sheath, having emerged from a wet slit discernible from his feathers as a strip of pink and a wet glint in the sunlight.

Chirpy spread his wings, devouring the sun. With talons crunching dry leaves and strafing Jacob's sides, he took deliberate, menacing steps towards the face of his mortal enemy.

Jacob craned his neck further and further back. He refused to break eye contact. But as Chirpy stepped past his chest, his thighs engulfed Jacob's periphery, and with another step, his ass eclipsed the sky. As if waving to taunt him, Chirpy's cock dripped onto his forehead. Erect tail feathers twitched behind his rump, eager for contact.

Another step, and Chirpy's ass loomed right overhead. His coat of feathers failed to hide the shapely curve of each vengeful cheek. Chirpy croaked and twirled on the spot, warm precum arcing across Jacob's exposed belly, tail feathers wiggling high above his head.

Chirpy raised a leg to Jacob's shoulder. Talons clenched down and shoved, pinning him to the dirt. The wind went silent as malevolent laughter filled the clearing.

Once it faded to a raspy croak, Chirpy uttered but one word.

“Beg."

Jacob cleared his throat. “Please, your Croakiness, I beseech thee—perch thy sumptuous rump upon ye humble servant's face."

“Not like that, worm." Chirpy rolled his talons across Jacob's shoulder, the largest one coming to rest on his neck. “Beg for mercy."

He's so goddamn adorable. A shame Jacob couldn't say that part out loud—not with the threat of instant death against his throat.

But he still wanted to push the raven, just the slightest more. “I feel you're grossly overestimating how bad of a punishment this is."

“You woeful fool. Your suffering has only just begun." Chirpy's hands swept around his hips, gliding beneath his feathers, ruffling the plumage of his rump. His talons clenched the inner crease of both cheeks, and as they parted, feathers gave way to reveal a prize so insatiable, Jacob's cock lurched within its cloth prison.

“The horrors that await," said Chirpy, “are beyond your capability to grasp."

“Oh, I'm grasping them quite well."

Braced between the feathered firmness of Chirpy's thighs, tucked tight beneath his trembling tail feathers, hidden between two plump cheeks with feathers strewn from earlier groping, was simply the tightest hole Jacob had ever had the privilege of admiring. Black feathers faded to soft pink, an entrance creased and quivering with as much need and anticipation as the two of them combined.

A talon, its golden tip wet and glistening, circled the eager hole. Chirpy's entire form shook as his finger teased the star-shaped seal. He loosed a hoarse moan as his talon spread his stubborn entrance, delving no deeper than an inch. Once it withdrew, a string of spit and sweat connected it to the now-spasming rim.

The raven huffed in satisfaction. He kept his cheeks parted. “Imagine it with your tongue—that size, that warmth, that thickness—all for my pleasure. Such torture awaits."

If only Chirpy knew the most agonising torture would be for him to stay standing, gracing Jacob's face never—nevermore.

“Again," said Jacob, “You might be overestimating how horrible this is."

“You weave a brave tapestry, but unlike you, I'm no fool." Flanking Jacob's face, Chirpy's thighs trembled as his knees bent, the beginning of a squat. “Being sat on? Reduced to a seat for their better? All would shirk their courageous facade in the face of such humiliation."

“Yeah, sure, whatever." Jacob grasped Chirpy's ankles, readying himself. “What else have you got in store? Making me choke on your cock or something?"

Chirpy chuckled and cawed. “Mayhap. I shan't spoil the surprise."

“No, wait, I said that wrong." Jacob cleared his throat, then forced out the croakiest voice his vocal cords could produce. “Tremble, Jacob, for now you'll choke on my cawk."

“Bastard!"

Chirpy hopped. Jacob hadn't time to react as two dark mounds hurtled toward his face. His ass slammed down hard, wringing the air from his lungs. He gasped, but each desperate wheeze filled his chest with intoxicating heat and musk, the concoction growing more profuse as Chirpy shifted his hips back and forth, burying Jacob's face between his feathered cheeks.

Dazed but burning with lust, Jacob gripped Chirpy's thighs and licked his feathers, soft bristles sweeping across his cheekbones. Chirpy's rump housed extraordinary warmth—both feathers and body heat. Blinded by that sea of black, Jacob relied on the heat from Chirpy's hole to direct his mouth. Stroked by thousands of feathers, his tongue prodded in earnest, searching for the prize hidden beneath the plumage.

“Yes, yes!" came a piercing squawk beyond that muffling rump. “My long-awaited retribution is at hand." The raven sank deeper, bearing all his weight upon his mortal enemy—rump swallowing his face, thighs shuddering atop his chest.

For Jacob, it was surprisingly comfortable. Those plump cheeks were soft like pillows—just with their feathery stuffing on the outside. Chirpy's jittery cackles shook through his hide, a taunting massage of his foe's face.

But Jacob refused to admit defeat. He jabbed his tongue at the encroaching heat. Feathers gave way to a supple ring. His tongue circled the exposed flesh, then swiped back and forth across the clenched folds at its centre. The ring spasmed, faster than a heartbeat, and Chirpy half cackled and half squawked as his wings thrashed beyond the muffled softness of his rump. Talons clenched Jacob's inner thighs, and warm liquid—drool or precum, Jacob couldn't tell—dribbled onto his chest.

“Finally, after so long…" Chirpy's voice, punctured by breathless snarls, reverberated through his rump. His scratchy words boomed in Jacob's ears. “Accept your fate, you bastard, and put your tongue where it belongs. I, will, make, you, mine!"

Jacob crept his hands around Chirpy's waist, gripping his upper thighs tight. As a prehensile cock coiled around his middle and ring finger, his tongue swirled around the salty circumference of Chirpy's hole.

Whatever rage-filled demand Chirpy tried to vocalise fizzled into gibberish.

Jacob continued his assault, moaning and planting kisses wherever his lips could reach. Chirpy's entrance, hungry for warmth and fullness, twitched with enough force to rival his flapping wings. But Jacob needed to prolong the experience, to tease his so-called captor; he sealed his lips to Chirpy's hole, but he didn't penetrate.

He smooched.

Croaks oscillating in pitch and volume rose to deafening heights. Tail feathers smacked the back of Jacob's head, and Chirpy's cock slathered his hand as it thrust against his knuckles. Chirpy bucked himself backwards, trying to force that tongue into his hole, but he only flattened Jacob deeper into the leaf-covered dirt.

Jacob didn't mind. He didn't mind any of this. The world would be a much better place if all grudges were resolved through angry face-sitting.

But this bird was especially sensitive, and his hole was especially tight. While Chirpy cawed and squawked, Jacob twisted his tongue as though drilling through, straining to breach the seal. His hand squeezed tight around the prehensile length, and it thrust between the o of his clenched fingers.

The pucker jerked and scrunched, desperate to withstand the eager assault. But twist by twist, it lost its will to fight. It yielded to the pressure. With one mighty ram, Jacob plunged his tongue through. Tight, velvety walls clamped down, and Chirpy's feathers pricked up, twitching in rhythm with his bodily spasms. His rim groped Jacob's tongue, rippling muscles aching to pull it deeper.

Jacob didn't hesitate. He thrust his tongue as far as he could. Chirpy bounced against his face—not enough to grace him with natural light or air—but enough to treat his tongue as a cock for the raven to ride. The hastening patter of contact was joined by croaked squeals of ecstasy. His prehensile cock pounded Jacob's hand like a mate's fertile hole.

Battered by constant slams and smothered by cheeks too tight, Jacob's mind hazed into a blur, broken only by piercing squawks and the tensing of hungry flesh around his tongue. Lost in the tightened folds of Chirpy's rear, he settled on a simple pattern; he reared his tongue, and struck.

Again. And again.

And Chirpy howled with each vicious strike. Hot precum soaked Jacob's belly.

Jacob raised another hand to join it with his first. Chirpy's cock found its snug hold, pulses trembling through Jacob's fingers. The length bred his hands. Chirpy bucked his hips, retreating his cock to the very entrance of that makeshift cunt, his feathery crotch smacking Jacob's hands as his cock tip thrust out the other end.

“M… my, mine…" A garbled groan swallowed Chirpy's words. His talons gripped Jacob's thighs, digging down on either side of twitching underwear. A growl trembled through Jacob's entire form as the raven slammed down limp atop his prize, no longer having the strength to ride Jacob's tongue. His tail feathers whipped the leafy ground behind him, his wings thrashed in vain, and his back arched in a half-circle.

Jacob's only warning was a sharp chirp. A second later, hot cum splattered against his belly—the prehensile tip having aimed, no doubt. Chirpy's cock rocketed between Jacob's fingers, each thrust heralding another shot of bird seed, soaking his chest and waist while the asshole's asshole wrung his tongue like a towel, milking it for all the pleasure it had to give.

And through it all, Chirpy sank deeper onto Jacob, his failing limbs unable to support his weight. Feathers slid across Jacob's sweat-covered face, and those ass cheeks soon engulfed his ears, burying his entire head beneath the raven's spit-soaked rump. Even his tail feathers swung down to hide Jacob from view.

Jacob didn't know what was hotter—the steaming-hot confines of the hole gripping his tongue—or the pent-up load glazing his belly. Both sensations left his mind reeling.

Somewhere in that daze, the flood against his stomach slowed, and the hole around his tongue loosened. Jacob was brought back to his senses by a rubbing against his chest. The wiping of fabric, the smearing of sticky cum. Was Chirpy cleaning him? With what?

“You weren't fond of this shirt, were you?"

Oh.

As Chirpy mopped up his mess, Jacob realised his tongue had fallen free from the bird's hole. He nibbled the soaked pucker—coaxing some adorable squirms from the raven on top—and circled his tongue around the rim. Their combined sweat was salty on his lips. He poked the tightened hole, teasing his tongue's reentry. But before he could plunge and batter this bird's insides once more, talon tips tensed against his scalp.

“Halt."

Jacob stopped with his tongue poised and ready to strike. He didn't hesitate out of fear. Curiosity. Chirpy no doubt wanted an opportunity to monologue.

Jacob may as well get comfortable; this could take a while. He squeezed his hands around Chirpy's thighs, shaped his mouth into a circle fitted to Chirpy's rim, sealed his lips to the pucker, and French kissed that hole as though it were a tender lover.

“What a delectable little morsel you are," Chirpy started, croaking back laughter. “So much more placid than I expected. Or were you making it easy for me? No matter. It's just good to have you where you belong: trembling beneath me."

Jacob moaned, breaking the kiss for a moment to swirl his tongue around the rim's twitching circumference. He had somehow met an eldritch being more naive than Jake. Like father, like son.

“Now," said Chirpy, his talons stroking Jacob's protruding head, weaving between his sweat-clumped hair, “I get to name you. It's only fair."

Jacob scoffed, though muted beneath a raven's rump, it sounded more like a moan. Oh well. He buried his tongue back into that hole and continued his worship.

“Don't worry. I'll give your name as little thought as you gave mine. Sound good, Roost?"

Jacob stopped.

Was this asshole serious?

“Do you like it?" asked Chirpy.

“Not—"

“Don't answer; I don't care. You are my roost, and thus, you are Roost. Simple. Fitting. Perfect."

Better than Chirpy, at least.

“We'll have to get that engraved on a nice shiny collar for you, won't we?"

A heavy rumble trembled through Jacob's form, his so-called master erupting into silent laughter.

“Because you're mine now. And we can't leave any doubt about it. Enjoy these sensations—the heat, the musk, the weight—everything. You shall have the privilege of serving as my roost and reliving this very moment until the end of everness. You shall ache this defeat every night until you perish. I will be your deathbed."

Okay, now it's going a bit too far.

But Chirpy, lost in his power lust, giggled manically. “You're mine. Jake can't save you now. But I'm no wretch." His laughter stopped suddenly, and his voice turned deadpan. “I would never make you do something you hadn't agreed to."

Does this bird even think about the words he's saying?

“Unfortunately, your mouth is rather occupied at the moment." Chirpy shifted his hips in conferral. “So we'll have to confirm your agreement in some other manner."

“I can still talk."

“I can't hear you." Chirpy wiggled himself deeper, tucking his tail feathers down to seal Jacob away from the outside world. “So, as an alternative, how's this?"

Jacob gasped as pressure squeezed against his cock, and a quick tug of his underwear by talons tore away the fabric. His cock emerged at last, standing proud, quivering, dribbling in the chilly breeze.

Chirpy stroked the smooth curve of three talons across Jacob's cock, gliding from base to tip. As they rolled over his cockhead, they twisted and clasped his entire length.

“If you agree to be my roost for evermore…" Chirpy's talons squeezed tight. “All you need to do…is cum."

Jacob muttered a protest, but Chirpy cut it short with a stroke of his cock, talons gliding down and slamming against his crotch. Those talon tips traced up and down his length. The tingling danger of those sharp points, combined with the stinging contrast of cold against heat, left Jacob writhing and groaning. He bucked his hips, unable to resist; his cock demanded he finish, and musk breathed new life into his air-deprived body.

He couldn't see, but Chirpy was proficient with his talons. The raven adjusted the pressure and speed, twisted to stroke at different angles, even circled one talon around his cockhead—all while keeping those sharps as a threat.

He couldn't last. Precum dribbled down Jacob's cock, and Chirpy's talons smeared it all across his length. He moaned into Chirpy's ass, still smooching his tight, wriggling rim. Everything was wet with sweat and spit. Chirpy bucked his rump down in rhythm with the jerking of his foot, bouncing that delicious hole against Jacob's lips. Jacob learned the tempo, and whenever the rump plapped against his face, he kissed the entrance and moaned his lust.

As alluring as a footjob from a bird proved to be, Jacob craved nothing more than bending this bastard bird over a stump and breeding his perfect little hole.

Maybe next time. Pressure built in his groin, and he bucked faster with the approach of his climax, his hips slamming the ground between each thrust.

“Yes, yes!" Chirpy's voice boomed through his rump to deliver his diabolic delight to Jacob's ears. “At last, at long last! Spill your seed, you bastard, and bring my long-yearned revenge to fruition!"

But then another voice chimed in his ears—a chime both soothing and familiar.

“Is that you, Chirpy?"

“D-dad!?"

Chirpy leapt up. Jacob gasped for air, sudden sunlight blinding his eyes, his crotch burning with unfinished need. In the blurring orange of sunset, he could just make out Chirpy's frozen form. His flexed wings.

From just beyond the clearing, Jake's cheery voice rang between the trees. “Are you practising your evil monologues again?"

Chirpy stared down at Jacob, beak ajar.

“Chirpy? Where are you, Chirpy? Come here, Chirpy!"

The third cry of his name shook the raven back to his senses. He whipped his head, grabbed his cock, and shoved it into his cloaca with a wet squelch.

Just in time.

Light-grey fur flickered between the narrow gaps of trees. The kindhearted wendigo pranced into the clearing, digging his hooves into the leafy ground to grind to a halt. Usually, Jake's skull and the yellow lights that served as his eyes would snatch Jacob's attention, but this time it was his horns. Vibrant flowers of varied sizes and colours dotted his antlers—now more treelike than ever. The nest on the topmost branch that used to hold Chirpy and two eggs was empty. It had been empty for many months.

But the wendigo seemed unable to part with it.

He also held a colourful box with both hands, his clawed fingers covering the painted design. He hopped on the spot upon sighting Chirpy and Jacob.

“Oh, Chirpy, there you are! And you found Jacob! I was wondering why he was late." Jake's yellow eyes shifted between the standing bird and the prone human. Then they went hazy. “Why is Jacob on the ground?" Hazier. “With his shirt ripped?" Blurred and flickering. “And his dick out?"

“He, uh…" Stammering, Chirpy glanced down at Jacob with a pleading look in his eyes.

Still gasping for air, Jacob hadn't the lung capacity to assist. He just shrugged. You're on your own, birdy.

“He tripped!" chirped Chirpy. “Tripped over a root."

“Oh… Not again." Jake tsked, shaking his skull from side to side. “See, Chirpy? I told you. He's the clumsiest human I've ever met."

“Yep, that's Jacob, alright—big, clumsy doofus." Chirpy croaked out an unconvincing chuckle. “I was just about to help him up."

“I'm so glad you two could finally meet—I always knew you'd get along!" Jake shook the box in his hands like an overexcited toddler. “Funny enough, you met the same way we did—Jacob on his back, dazed and confused."

His lungs refilled, Jacob clapped his hands to get their attention. “Good to see you, Jake. Is that a new hairstyle?"

“Oh, you noticed!" Jake reached up to rub the flower on his bottommost horn, a red and yellow chrysanthemum. “Chirpy gave me a makeover last night. He spent all day picking them."

No way.

“Y-yeah, dad, you know…" Chirpy looked to the ground, avoiding both their gazes. “Dad kept thinking he looked too scary, so, I thought…maybe he'd like it."

“And I love it!" How that rattling box hadn't flown out of the bouncing wendigo's hands, Jacob didn't know. “You think it's great too, right?"

“Absolutely. It looks adorable." Jacob lowered his voice and glanced at Chirpy. “Like a certain bird I know."

Chirpy's feathers tensed upright, but Jake just tilted his skull to the side. “Did you say something?"

“It's nothing," said Jacob. “Chirpy and I were having a little chat."

“Oh? About what?"

“Y-yeah," croaked Chirpy. “About what?"

Jacob felt his cheeks creasing into a smile, but he didn't care to hide it. “About how I came up with the name Chirpy."

“What!?" Jake snapped his bony jaws—the closest sound to anger he's ever made. “How could you, Jacob? I spent days—weeks!—thinking that up."

“What!?" Chirpy snapped his beak—definitely not the angriest sound he's ever made—and scowled at Jake, one red eye twitching. “You named me Chirpy?"

“Yep! And I'm not about to let Jacob take credit for it." Jake puffed out his chest, his fluffy mane flowing in the breeze. “I mean, does he look that smart?"

“But, but, you said…" Chirpy heaved for air, his entire form trembling. “You said… Jacob… Jacob gave you the name."

“He did. My name!" Jake rocked his torso left and right like a branch swaying in a gale. “Jake's a great name, but you have to admit, it's nowhere close to the creative brilliance of Chirpy. No offence, Jacob."

“None taken."

But Chirpy took offence. His talons clenched through the leafy soil, and his beak ground like metal scraping against metal. He wore the shell-shocked expression of a hatchling who'd been pulled from the egg too early.

As Chirpy stared at his feet and wheezed, a delightful tingle coursed up Jacob's back. That mortified expression—some pompous prick realising they had gone their entire life harbouring a grudge against the fucking wrong person—was pure schadenfreude. He had finally put that bastard bird in his place.

But his glee plunged through an ice-covered lake when he glanced at Jake. The wendigo dropped the colourful box. His skull drooped, and his unsteady eyes fizzled as he peered at Chirpy. His son.

“Chirpy?" Jake stepped slowly closer, arm outstretched. “Are you okay, Chirpy?"

His poor, distressed son.

Jacob clutched his chest. He would never forgive himself if he crushed Jake just to get back at a birdbrained fool. A name wasn't just some goofy moniker—especially not to Jake. Names have meaning, and Chirpy's name had to have meaning as well.

What did it mean?

“I was just telling Chirpy," Jacob said, stalling for time, “what a lovely name he has."

Chirpy shot a sideways glare, but his burning eyes looked half-extinguished. “You…were?"

Jacob nodded. He had one chance to salvage this. “It was almost a year ago. Someone—someone really important to me—said a name isn't something you choose. It's a gift."

Jake flinched. The jaws of his skull clattered, failing to produce words.

“But I think it's more than that. It's a promise. It's a gift from someone who promises to love you."

Jake's son, the raven who moments ago looked on the verge of erupting and spewing months of pent-up angst, cawed softly. He splayed a single wing, shielding his face from Jacob's eyes.

Jacob instead stared at Jake. The wendigo's face had no skin to emote, no eyes to reveal his thoughts. But Jacob knew. He always knew what Jake was thinking.

“I was just telling Chirpy that his name was your promise to care for him. A promise that you'd always love him."

It was cheesy, but it was the best he could do. If he hadn't been oxygen starved from being smothered, maybe he'd come up with something better.

“Jacob…" Jake sniffed. Whether he could physically cry or only mimic the sound, it didn't matter. “That's so sweet. That's the sweetest thing someone lying half-naked on the ground has ever said to me."

“Hey, what's with the sass?" Jacob swung up his arms in disbelief. “You're always naked." Indeed, prone on his back, Jacob had clear sight of Jake's sac, hanging as low as ever—as good a view as the day they first met.

“What, are you talking about these?" Jake gave his pair a firm squeeze. “That's because I don't freeze to death from a little snow…unlike a certain human." His honeyed words rang with innocence.

But by now, Jacob knew better. There's only so many times a wendigo can sit on your face before you suspect ulterior motives. Jake could never convincingly explain why he needed to keep Jacob warm during the summer months.

It's no wonder Chirpy turned out a little strange; an eldritch nudist for a dad needs at least a month of therapy.

Speaking of Chirpy, the raven was silent. He had turned away, staring at a pair of identical oak trees. Falling gold glinted in the evening sun, twirling in the breeze, adding another layer to the forest floor.

“Chirpy," Jake said, his voice softening. “I…suspected something was up for a while. If you don't like your name, you can always change it. I won't be sad."

“Change it?" Chirpy spun to face Jake. His fiery eyes looked different. Softer. “Why would I change my name?"

Wetter.

“Why would I forsake your wonderful gift?"

“Ch… Chirpy…" Jake's voice croaked, much like his son's. He spread his fluffy arms wide.

Chirpy shuffled closer, dragging his feet. An impatient Jake lunged forward, and Chirpy squawked as his face was pulled into the wendigo's thick mane. Jake hugged tight, his arms trembling, ears flicking, eyes warm and bright, his snout nuzzling his son's cheek. Chirpy's legs dangled just above the ground, kicking in protest. The mane absorbed an annoyed caw, but Chirpy eventually relented; he splayed his wings and wrapped them around Jake's back.

Jacob just smiled at the two of them. He was mighty proud of himself for averting that family crisis.

A silent minute passed before Chirpy wiggled out of the hug. He paced backwards, his shoulders slumping back into their sockets. His heaving had all but softened to gentle sniffs, as though Jake's mane had absorbed any leftover resentment.

To be fair, that mane was magical. A night or two sleeping on it was equivalent to a month of therapy.

“So, um…" Chirpy glanced back and forth between Jacob and Jake, desperate for one of them to end the awkwardness.

Both stayed silent. Chirpy was on his own.

He cleared his throat and pointed at the box Jake dropped. “What's that?"

The wendigo squatted, scooping it up in the same motion. He held it out for them both to see. From a distance, Jacob could make out an orange blur on the cover, much like the autumn canopy above their heads. Large letters filled the box's centre. Root.

“Some humans left a board game at the cabin." Jake shook the box, and pieces rattled within. “You choose an animal faction and bully the other players."

“Bully, you say?" Chirpy straightened up at the word, shooting Jacob a smirking glare. “My favourite pastime."

Even after all that, he's still an asshole.

“There's a corvid faction for Chirpy," Jake said, “lizards holding skulls for me, and for Jacob…" The wendigo looked over at him, scratching his bony chin. “Well, there are no humans, but maybe you could play…the rabbits?"

It was quick—a purple blur, almost subtle—but not subtle enough. Jake's tongue swiped across his jaw, and Jacob's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach at that horrible memory of nine months back. “No," Jacob begged. “Absolutely not!"

Maybe he needed therapy.

“But rabbits are cute!" Jake tried to sound nonchalant, but the sun streaking through the leaves caught a string of drool dripping off his bony chin. A glistening warning.

“No-no." Jacob shook his head fast enough to daze himself. “I'll just play the cats."

“Fine," Jake grumbled. “Cats are fine too, I guess. Anyway, last one there has to set up. No dawdling! Tweety and Jake Junior are waiting!"

With the reflexes of an easily frightened feline, Jake leapt out of the clearing. Flashes of colour lit gaps between tree trunks, his flower-adorned antlers weaving left and right, soon fading from sight.

Chirpy sighed, watching the leaves kicked up by his father's escape flutter back to the earth. “I suppose we can both set up." He walked over to Jacob and held out his taloned hand. “It's about time you got off the ground."

“Tweety and Jake Junior…" Jacob closed his eyes. “I remember their eggs. Please tell me they're normal birds—not like you."

“One of them is."

“That's…worrying."

“Don't be too frightened." Chirpy pulled Jacob to his feet. “They're much less terrifying than I."

“So they're balloon animals?"

Chirpy scoffed. “Hilarious."

Jacob's legs had grown numb. He stumbled for balance, but his buttonless pants slipping down his thighs only added to the difficulty. He tugged them up and did the zipper tight. Another step sent them sliding right back down.

“I suppose," said Chirpy, “I ought to apologise. Profusely."

“What, for the pants?"

“N-no. For everything else."

“Honestly, I'm more annoyed about the pants."

Chirpy stomped his foot. “Just let me disgorge my guilt!"

Despite his shouting and ruffled feathers, Chirpy stared off to Jacob's side, unable to look him in the eye.

“Go ahead," said Jacob, trying not to smile.

“I am…" Chirpy cleared his throat. Twice. Three times. “So very sorry."

“That's the best you can come up with? I guess you refined your revenge vocabulary a lot more than your apologies."

“What more can I say?"

“Look, don't worry about it." Jacob smacked the raven's back, making him jump. “I told you—it was less of a punishment than you thought."

“Oh, well…" Chirpy stumbled over his words. “If there are no hard feelings, then—"

“No hard feelings? Are you kidding me?" Jacob snatched Chirpy's hand and smacked it against his crotch. From shock or instinct, Chirpy clenched down, squeezing Jacob's still-aching cock.

Jacob leaned closer to the raven's ear. “I'm still very hard," he whispered. “Is leaving me unsatisfied any way to treat a guest?"

Chirpy tensed, his beak half-open, frozen in the middle of a silent squawk. But then, without a sound, he tightened his grip and pumped Jacob's cock.

With an open palm, Jacob smacked the raven's rump. A resounding clap echoed through the trees. “I'm sure we can think of a better way for you to make amends."

As Jacob groped, twitching tail feathers tickling his arm, Chirpy stammered out a moan.

“That juicy butt of yours is awful tight, you know." Jacob weaved his fingers through feathers, gliding them down the ass cheek's curve, circling the still-slick hole his tongue had stretched moments prior. “Might need a few rounds to break it in."

“But, but, I've… I've never—"

“Are you seriously going to claim you're a virgin after those face-sitting antics?"

“I am!"

“Great. You won't be for long." Jacob squeezed a finger through that tight, virgin rim, wringing an adorable squawk from the flustered bird. Meanwhile, his other hand glided up Chirpy's thighs, stroking toward the heat of his cloaca. Jacob rolled his thumb between those wet lips, slowly adding pressure to the vent, coaxing louder croaks and fiercer squawks.

“Quick question," said Jacob. “How many eggs do you think we can fit in there?"

“Wh-what? Why—"

“Don't answer—I prefer to be surprised." Jacob shoved two fingers into the snug, moist slit, and Chirpy shared the closest impression of a chirp his croaky, trembling voice could offer.

Even as Jacob pumped two sets of fingers—two in each hole—as deep as Chirpy's tight insides permitted, Chirpy jerked Jacob's cock with increasing speed and need. The young raven, flustered and trembling, chuckled nervously between his grunts and caws.

“What a good bird." Jacob planted a kiss on Chirpy's ear. He rubbed his face against his neck fluff, huffing deep his gentle scent.

He smelled just like Jake.

“Hope you're ready, little birdy. I'm going to make you chirp."

---

Part Two: Get Chirp'd

It started somewhat awkwardly. There aren't many good places to fuck in the forest. After scuttling through various clearings, careful to avoid branches striking their unmentionables, they found the best option. The only option.

A stump.

And still it started slow. Chirpy was tighter than he looked. Jacob had to ease his cock in, using fingers to help stretch that virgin entrance. It took a lot of prodding—a lot more chirping—but his crotch eventually met Chirpy's feathered rump. The thin feathers rounding those supple cheeks tickled his belly.

That was ten minutes ago. But with Chirpy now bent over the stump, filling the quiet forest with his screeching squawks, Jacob had no reason to go slow. He found a rhythm, not just for fucking the flustered raven, but to dish out well-deserved punishment for his earlier antics. Punishment in the form of the hardest fuck this boyish bird could take.

Jacob rolled his cock all the way back, fighting the tightening grip of Chirpy's hole. Whenever his cock almost slipped free, he slammed back in with all his might, plunging down to the hilt. Chirpy squawked, his slender frame bouncing back and forth over the stump. Jacob kept his fingers busy, gliding them across Chirpy's chest, stroking each feather he passed, and—whenever he wanted to hear a louder chirp—groping and pinching the hide beneath.

Jacob forced words through his gritted teeth. “You weren't kidding about this being your first time, eh?"

With a wheezed croak, Chirpy said, “You think there's many candidates in the middle of the woods?"

Jacob growled, thrusting with fury. Knowing the cute, pompous prick beneath him was pure and innocent—in a metaphorical sense—flared some primal excitement. He had never found the thought so enticing. Not before today. He clawed his fingers across Chirpy's chest and bit the back of his neck. He needed to claim this bird as his.

Smacks echoed through the trees as Jacob slammed his hips against Chirpy's rump, breeding without mercy the ass that had once perched upon his face. Chirpy deserved a fuck both rough and tender. Jacob groaned with each hilt, the raven's insides hugging tight and twisting around his cock. Piercing squawks of ache and pleasure consumed the soundscape. Chirpy was young; he had probably never experienced pressure against his prostate, let alone hammering away at his virgin tunnel.

Saying the bird would be sore come morning was the biggest understatement of the autumn season.

Now that his hands were free to explore and fondle his conquest, he discovered Chirpy was more feather than bone. His effeminate body, lithe and adaptable, could be handled however Jacob pleased.

And so he experimented. He shoved and bent Chirpy into varied positions, each manipulative grope and pinch eliciting garbled yelps from the overstimulated bird. Flat against the stump, on his side, or with head feathers clenched and yanked back to force his beak to the sky—no matter how Chirpy was positioned, Jacob remained insatiable. He soon wrapped both arms around his feathered chest to lift him, breeding him suspended midair. The raven's wings flapped instinctively.

Jacob soon decided on the best position—the position that allowed the most force for his thrusts. He shoved Chirpy back against the stump, head dangling limp over its far edge, and pounded his rear with enough vigour to bounce the young raven's belly back and forth, his limber body doing its best to absorb the relentless assault on his rear.

Even though he had cum earlier, the poor virgin couldn't hold out. His voice croaked—croaked more than usual—and his squawks soon clogged into limp-tongued gurgles. His wings jerked in half-flaps, a twitch rippling through their feathers with each strike of Jacob's hips. Their spastic flailing could never amount to flight, but like a pair of foldable hand fans, they helped cool the immense heat building from their coupled bodies.

Between squeaks, Chirpy somehow stammered out words. “More! I'm gonna, gonna…"

Lose his virginity. Invigorated by the thought, Jacob ignored the burning in his overexerted muscles and made his hips into a weapon. He was a machine. His cock shot in and out of those sweltering depths like a piston, designed not only to devastate Chirpy's rear end and put that bird in his place, but to claim the raven's virginity in a manner he'd never forget.

Chirpy's entire form quaked, feathers and hide shuddering beneath Jacob's chest. Pleasure shattered through his joints. His legs folded behind Jacob's waist, locking tight, ice-cold talons clenching his sweat-soaked back. A deep, rolling squawk oozed from his beak.

Jacob felt it. The muscles cradled his cock clamped like a vice, keeping Jacob hilted. Then he heard it. The stump sounded sloppy splatters, squirting seed soaking its surface, splashing his sides. Chirpy was blowing the fattest load of his young life.

The second those walls loosened, Jacob resumed his thrusts, slamming away, his eyes clenched and his teeth grit. Each plunge, each strike of the raven's prostate, coaxed a thicker splat beneath.

A weightless whine from Chirpy—free of his usual croak and ringing with bliss—pushed Jacob over the edge.

It became a blur. Light dimmed, his vision marked by stars and dots. He clutched Chirpy's waist, bracing as he unloaded a mind-wrecking orgasm into the bird's virgin hole. Alongside Chirpy's gurgles of ecstasy and the splatter of seed beneath him, his anal walls squelched. Muscles pulsed around Jacob's cock, milking every drop and coating his length in a hot mess of his own making. Chirpy's spasms, both from his hole and from his bliss-choked body, urged his orgasm on. He would fill this virgin boy with everything he had.

“So much!" His wings flapped once, writhed, and then fell limp. “Too much," he croaked. “Too hot."

Hearing Chirpy speak felt wrong. Jacob bit his scruff. The bird yelped, and his voice gargled into wordless shrieks. Jacob's fingers fondled his belly, movement within trickling through his fingers—cum rushing up Chirpy's bowels. Intense heat radiated from his hide.

Overwhelmed, Chirpy's muscles gave way, and his chest smacked flat onto the stump with a wet splat. That left his rump bent towards the sky.

A perfect angle.

Lost in instinct, Jacob's hips took full advantage, using gravity to deliver heavier and faster thrusts, plunging his cock in and out of that spasming hole. Cum squelched and squirted from Chirpy's rear with each merciless strike. Each vicious slam yielded another fat spurt from the raven's prehensile cock, now glazing the ground behind the stump.

Guttural croaks escaped Chirpy's throat. They rose to a squeak whenever Jacob pumped another hot shot deep into his ass. Again wanting silence, Jacob stroked a hand over Chirpy's chin, found his dangling beak, and shoved three fingers into his warm maw. Chirpy's beak squeezed down, his groans turning to mumbled moans, his tongue lapping those invading fingers.

At some point, their loads stopped spilling. Jacob's muscles started aching. His cock started burning. Thrusting to the hilt one last time, he collapsed, his face planting between Chirpy's twisted wings, his head sinking beneath the ruffled plumage.

Thank god Jacob could breathe in that warm darkness. As his heart pounded blood through his ears, he heaved the raven's refreshing, earthy scent. His panting soon steadied, his lungs sated, but his nose craved more musk. Sweat dripped off his every curve. His overworked body flamed with trapped heat, and those dense feathers, though wonderfully soft, weren't helping cool him down.

He gripped the edge of the stump, and with aching joints pushed himself free from Chirpy's embrace.

“No!" Chirpy twisted his neck, looking back at Jacob from under his wings. Soft, bedroom eyes almost begged. “Stay in. All that warmth will leak."

Jacob, waiting for strength to return to his muscles, said, “That's the best part." Well, not quite. Watching his seed drool from a well-fucked hole was the best part, but they were part of the same act—pulling out.

So Jacob ignored those pleading whines. He straightened upright and watched his cock slide free from Chirpy's ass, his reddened length glazed in white, the rim shuddering around its circumference and smearing his mess.

Despite how desperately Chirpy's hole clenched to stop Jacob's escape, his cock soon flicked free. Cum dribbled out. The raven clenched his twitching rim tight.

And Jacob smacked Chirpy's ass. Hard. The bird yelped, his hole loosened, and cum gushed forth. Those glossy black feathers across his taint and thighs found themselves submerged beneath a gloopy flood of white.

“Ugh, there's so much." Chirpy shuddered, his ass clenching at the escaping seed in vain, unable to halt the flow. “It's oozing beneath my feathers."

“Oh, please, you sat on my face for fifteen minutes." Jacob smacked the other cheek, coaxing another squawk and a burst of seed from that stretched hole. “This is poetic justice. Just like that Poe story you quote so much."

“What?" Chirpy defeated eyes tightened to a scowl. “There's no poetic justice in that poem. It's about a raven bullying someone for being home alone on a Friday night."

“No, no, the dude gets driven insane because he flipped off a bird." Jacob felt his lips twitching. “And named a raven Chirpy."

To Jacob's great surprise, Chirpy chuckled. “Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore? Quoth the Raven, 'Chirpy.'"

“Uh, what?"

“You may have escaped guilt for the name, but this"—Chirpy thrust his wings toward his leaking asshole—“is near enough to flipping me off. Cower, for my ghastly visage will stalk your dreams, Jacob. Nameless here for evermore."

“Damn," said Jacob. “When did you learn to take a joke?"

“Probably when my mind snapped from having my ass speared for ten minutes straight."

“I'm honestly surprised you're this inexperienced. I mean, have you met your dad?"

“Dad is a tease and nothing more." Chirpy sighed, the croak in his voice trembling up Jacob's arms. “Do you know how maddening it is whenever your dad hops out of a squat to see his nuts swinging every which way?"

“No," said Jacob. “I thankfully do not."

“And why do you mammals get balls? I'm fluffier than you all."

Wait, does Chirpy have testicle envy? Is that an actual condition? Jacob thought he best act early, alleviate this new angst before it also spiralled out of control. “I don't think fluffiness has anything to do with it. Besides, why do you get a pocket to hide your dick? Featherless brutes like us have nothing to conceal our shame."

Chirpy clicked his tongue. “Fair point. I'll concede."

“Truly a changed bird."

“What was that?" Chirpy's leer hardened.

“Oh, I was just reflecting on how quickly I tamed you." Face poised in a smirk, Jacob prodded his still-hard cock at Chirpy's rim. As cum dribbled on top, he thrust it upwards, smearing the mess through Chirpy's once pristine tail feathers.

"Ungh…" Chirpy smacked those feathers at Jacob's belly—to no avail. “Curse you..."

After one last gaze at Chirpy's whitened backside, Jacob leaned in, resting his body on Chirpy's back, between his gentle wings. He stroked the tuft of feathers at the top of his head before leaning into his neck, huffing the forest's gentle scent.

“I think you needed that," he whispered into the raven's ear, weaving his fingers through his fluff.

“I need a bath."

“Do you have, like, an oversized birdbath?" Jacob ran a finger up Chirpy's slick beak, prodding the gap between the two segments. “Or are you trying to misdirect?"

Chirpy snarled, a rumble that massaged Jacob's chest. But he still opened his mouth. Such a good bird. His tongue coiled Jacob's finger, and he sealed his beak above his knuckle, gently sucking.

Jacob scrunched his fingers over Chirpy's head, scritching his scalp. “You definitely needed that pent-up angst fucked out of you."

The raven mumbled a coarse growl. Reluctant agreement.

“Your virginity, nevermore."

Chirpy's feathers twitched, his body shook, and his beak clamped hard.

“Ow, ow, ow!"

Jacob yanked his finger free, and the raven's unoccupied mouth wheezed croaky laughter. “That's, that's a good one."

“You bit me, idiot."

“Shouldn't have made me laugh." Chirpy looked over his shoulder, the edges of his beak curled into a smirk.

Jacob flicked his sore finger against that beak's golden tip, sounding a satisfying clack. “For that, you're getting fucked again."

“How!?" Chirpy sounded less bothered and more shocked. “How do you have this much energy?"

“There's an asshole beneath me with a tight asshole—how could I not?" Jacob wrapped his arms around the raven's chest, feathered warmth enveloping his arms.

“Dad's still waiting, you know."

With a few blind jabs, Jacob found the bird's hole, the source of much leakage. He lined up his dick—“He can wait a little longer"—and coasted forward.

His cock wedged against the puckered entrance. The rim had already tightened, so squeezing it in needed a few firm thrusts and several high-pitched whimpers from Chirpy. But once he cleared the barrier, velvety heat engulfed his length. Pulsing walls guided his cock deeper, their sensual caress smooth and slick from his first load.

They both groaned as one—Jacob from having his cock swallowed by tightness that moulded to its every bump and curve—and Chirpy from immense fullness and heat, his inexperienced hole stretching to welcome his new lover. Jacob clenched a clump of chest feathers while Chirpy's talons pierced the stump. The raven arched his back, lifting Jacob. Mess squelched out from his rim, oozing down Jacob's legs as his cock stole what little space there was.

He hilted with a wet splat, his nuts tapping cum-soaked feathers.

“Oh Lenore…" Chirpy huffed. “I hate that I can feel where it is."

“Love, you mean." Jacob swept his fingers down Chirpy's belly, groping the soft skin beneath in hopes of finding a swell. Chirpy's tummy was wet, his feathers clumped—no doubt the result of his earlier collapse onto the stump—onto his own load.

“Whereabouts is it?" asked Jacob

“Somewhere crushing my prostate."

“That doesn't narrow it down." Jacob tugged the sticky base of Chirpy's tail feathers, yanking them over his back. “Oh well. This one's going to be messy. You ready?"

“This stretch, that heat—it's heavenly, but I don't know if I have it in me for another load." Chirpy twisted his neck, his eyes half-lidded. But not just from lust. A demand burned within. “Not without help."

Jacob stroked the adorable birdy's cheek, but his other hand reached for his vent, rubbing the lips of his cloaca. Their slick folds had parted. Steaming heat seeped out, and a slippery appendage curled around and between his fingers.

With three fingers, Jacob took the prehensile cock in a firm grip. His pinky and thumb stuck out, pointing towards Chirpy's vent. Jacob rolled his hand down the slimy length, and as he approached the soft feathers lining Chirpy's belly—the heat of his cloaca—that thumb and pinky squeezed through his vent, parting its tight corners. Chirpy yelped from the penetration, then squawked as Jacob hooked his fingers, stretching the throbbing walls.

Jacob soon settled into a rhythm of running his hand from base to leaking tip and back again. Each pump ended with a slam against Chirpy's cloaca, two fingers squelching into the tingling heat of its depths. Jacob wrapped his free hand around Chirpy's neck—gentle yet secure.

“That good?" he asked at the end of a pump, swirling his fingers around the tight recesses of Chirpy's vent.

“Perfect." Chirpy bucked his hips, eager for Jacob to wreak his rear once more. “Begin, please."

“Chirp for me."

“Why should I?"

“No talking back." Jacob gripped that neck tighter and rested his mouth on Chirpy's ear. “Chirp for me, little birdy. Tell me how bad you want it."

The forest had fallen into shadow. Nearing the horizon line, the sun vanished beneath the trees, heralding the encroaching dusk. The vibrant tapestry of the canopy, oranges and reds, faded into the dark.

Underneath that leafy curtain, a once-seething raven—not entirely black, his rear splotched in white—heaved for air, pinned beneath the human who had quelled his rage. The man who had tamed him. An unsteady drip filled the tense silence. The mess leaking down the raven's thighs and the need dribbling from his cock combined atop a talon-scratched stump.

The raven trembled—wings twitching, talons flexing, holes clenching—as he awkwardly cleared his throat. The human said nothing. He waited.

He didn't need to wait long. The bird realised he had no other choice. He needed to be filled. He needed to be bred. And only one word promised such a fate. One word would reward him with untold bliss.

“C…ch…" he started, his throat acting on its own. But his mind needed to commit. After a hoarse gasp, a stammer of his tongue, the word finally breached his beak.

Ch-chirp!