Cloths of Heaven
(i)
Crawford took the book from Ran and carefully opened the front cover, then he smiled to himself, “She must have left this behind for you,” he said fondly as Ran blushed to his hairline. “Lady Birman Redgrove,” Crawford explained, “she was commander here before me, she said that she would leave me a gift, giving that book to you must have been it.”
“But,” Ran protested, “Yotan said that half of these things were impossible for contortionist prostitutes.”
Crawford's laugh was deep and low, and Ran thought to himself, very sexy. It was one of the few times he had thought of his husband as sexy and he decided it was the book's entire fault. “Lady Redgrove has a strange sense of humour,” he said, “but she wouldn't give you something she thought you couldn't do,” he turned to an illustration, “and we've already done that one.” He said showing Ran the page.
Ran looked at it, “really?” he asked. He took the outstretched book and then tilted his head, “I didn't think I was that limber.”
Crawford laughed again; his smile was fond and indulgent. “You really spend too much time with Yohji and Schuldig,” he said but there was nothing incriminating or unhappy in his tone. Ran turned the page, “I know we've done this one,” he said showing Crawford the illustration, “well, you've done this one.” He blushed again. “I,” he shuffled his feet, “could I,” he said.
“You want to do that?” Crawford finished the sentence for him. His smile was indulgent, “later, I have a meeting soon and although there's nothing I'd like better, I simply don't have time at the moment.” He reached across the desk and kissed Ran on the mouth, “not that I'll be able to concentrate now.” He said closing the book, “You're a wicked boy, Ran, to give me such ideas before I'm due to meet the mother's council of Herensea.” He took Ran's hand and squeezed it, “you might want to take the book as well.” Ran blushed a little brighter, if that was possible. Crawford took the three steps around the desk so that he was in line with Ran's ear, leaning down just a little to whisper, “of course I'll imagine you touching yourself,” he whispered, “whilst your waiting for me, imagining what you're going to do to me.” Ran swallowed and Crawford turned his face around and kissed him.
Crawford deliberately rocked his hips against the boy's, feeling the swelling there and smirked into the kiss.
Ran batted him away. “Crawford,” he protested, pulling away, “it's still daytime.”
Crawford just smirked, then pulled away, and went to the door. “Farfarello,” he said to his manservant, “will you inform the ladies of the Mother's Council that I'm going to be indisposed for the rest of the afternoon, the travelling took more out of me than I thought, and ask them to rearrange their appointment.”
Farfarello grunted an answer, and Crawford turned back to Ran, “it's fine,” he said, “it was only a greeting to let me know the lie of the land here.” He said, moving in such a way that Ran was pinned against the table, “and believe me, no one will try and get past Farfarello.” He took Ran's face in his hands, “Your hair is getting longer,” he said, moving the strands with his fingertips.
“You asked me to grow it,” Ran said softly, unsure where this was going.
“I know,” Crawford whispered, leaning in closer to the boy, “and it makes you all the more beautiful.” He lowered his hands to the boy's hips and lifted him up unto the desk, standing between his spread legs and rubbing his own erection against the boy's.
“Your meeting,” Ran protested as Crawford began to kiss his jaw and rub the ridge of flesh that was raising against his pants.
“Irrelevant,” Crawford said, untying Ran's jerkin, and pushing it back, “cancelled.” He began to leave hot wet kisses along his collarbone, “just let me, love,” he murmured, “just let me love you.”
“But,” Ran protested, even as his hands bunched in Crawford's shirt pulling him closer, “I want to,” he stammered, “I mean, I,” he blushed.
Crawford smiled even as his hand rubbed against Ran's stirring erection. “Give me your hand,” he said softly, Ran obeyed, and Crawford brought it up against his own erection. “You can touch me all you like, Ran,” he ran his tongue the length of Ran's neck and stopped at his lips, “you can kiss me where you like, I don't mind,” he sucked Ran's lower lip into his mouth, “in fact, I'd rather like you to.”
Ran swallowed, a little involuntarily, “then tell me how.”
Crawford raised an eyebrow at that, but then realised Ran was seeking instruction, it wasn't that he was deliberately doing this, but that he simply had no effect how. “I have a better idea,” Crawford said quietly, “why don't you do what I do.”
He undid his pants efficiently and then pressed Ran's hand inside. At first Ran was nervous and then as Crawford's own hand closed about Ran's erection. Ran's nervousness charmed Crawford even as he leaned in for a kiss, moving his hips so he got some friction.
“Not here,” Ran gasped against his mouth, even as he pressed his own hips harder into Crawford's hand.
“Yes,” Crawford growled, “here.” He kissed Ran savagely; knowing that the boy wouldn't mind, that he could do what he liked and Ran would enjoy it. Ran met the onslaught of his tongue with his own. Since their marriage the boy had learned to kiss. Kisses silenced his protests as the hand in his groin rubbed the fight from him. Crawford could barely think against Ran's chill white fingers, clumsy and careless but trying. Crawford felt the tension in Ran's shoulder's vanish and he resisted the urge to just turn Ran unto his front on the desk and fuck him raw.
But Ran had asked, in fact Ran had offered.
He picked Ran up, sliding his hand from his erection to cup his ass, squeezing for measure as he carried him to the couch, as much as he wanted to christen the desk Ran couldn't do what he wanted him to from that vantage point.
He missed the couch by a few inches and Ran sank to the floor and took him with him unto the rich wool rug. He shirked off his shirt, careless of where it landed as long as he didn't lose contact with Ran's skin, with Ran's mouth.
Despite learning so much from Crawford the boy was still charmingly naive.
Crawford pulled back from the kiss with a gasp as Ran slipped his free hand into Crawford's hair, pulling it loose even as his palm rubbed, gently against Crawford's cock. He was pulling on his hair and his cock with the same easy pressure, and Crawford thought, or possibly hoped, he'd go mad.
“Turn around,” Crawford gasped. Ran just pouted and bit his lip. He obviously did not understand. “Just stay there.” He said, shimmying out of his pants. Then he turned around so his head was over Ran's cock, tugging down the trousers as he balanced himself precariously on his knees and elbows.
“You're too big,” Ran protested, “I can't reach,” he said, the boy was learning fast. “I think I need to be on top.”
Crawford could see the advantage to that, he had several inches on Ran in reach and they rolled so that Ran was the one on his hands and knees. “Just,” Crawford gasped, Ran's red curls could drive any man mad, “do what I do,” and then he swallowed him down.
At first Ran was nervous, he reached out with his tongue in a tentative lick and Crawford lost all ability to think, he suckled, he pulled, he did everything in his power to make Ran touch him, but Ran was taking this at his own pace, his pants half pulled off and gathered about his ankles. His tongue was maddening, light and flickering over the veins and ridges, prodding at the head.
Crawford just groaned and tried his best to show Ran how. Ran just wiggled his thin hips and carried on as before. Then somehow he seemed to get it; his fingers were at Crawford's balls, light, almost touches, and little feathery things. Crawford moaned and swallowed Ran down as far as he could, then Ran pulled back and looked up at him with a smile. He wiped his mouth with the side of his hand and then changed his angle. He reached forward and took the head of Crawford's cock in his mouth.
Crawford cried out then, because how could he not, and then because in the position Ran was in he couldn't reciprocate, he sucked his fingers into his mouth making sure that they were good and wet. He wouldn't stop Ran because it was heavenly and hellish all at the same time. He was balancing himself by laying his arms against Crawford's thighs so he couldn't thrust, but it didn't matter because he was learning and it was so good.
He began to run his fingers the length of Ran's cleft and watched Ran's back arch, and then slipped one fingertip inside. He used his other hand, curved around the boy's hip, to pull him down and traced his finger with his tongue. Ran couldn't help the reaction as he arched, his mouth pulling away from Crawford's cock as he gave into a touch he had never known. Crawford found it unbelievably sexy. His back formed an almost perfect c as he gave himself over to his mouth, his tongue and that darting finger. “Ah, aah, ahh,” he gasped and it was the most he'd said in sex since they'd start, “but,” he managed, “oh.”
Ran was normally silent through sex and these new sounds were maddening. He rolled Ran unto his back and slipped two fingers deep inside him. Normally when he and Ran had sex he made sure that Ran was on top so that he couldn't hurt him but he wanted more.
Ran looked delightfully lost as he wrapped his arms about Crawford's shoulders and pulled him down. “Please,” he whimpered, “please.”
It was all the permission Crawford needed; he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, and pushed inside. Ran raised his hips so he could push deeper, though there must have been a little pain, as he wasn't properly stretched. Ran didn't seem to care.
He rode Ran as hard as he wanted to and listened to the grunts and the whimpers. Then he pulled out, “on your knees,” he said wondering how he still managed to speak, he wanted. Ran blinked, his eyes were misty drunk on lust, but then he rolled over unto his forearms and knees and Crawford pushed inside again. The angle was different as Crawford wrapped his arm about his stomach and pulled him up so his back was against his chest and pulled him up and pushed him down, kissing and biting at his throat and grunting as he rode the boy sat on him.
He came so hard it was a wonder he didn't black out.
Crawford eventually sent a gift of thanks to the Lady Redgrove for her thoughtful gift.
(ii)
The years passed with a strange slowness in Herensea. Ran barely noticed their passing except that he discovered he did not like to spend winter nights alone, and that they passed much easier if he was in bed with Crawford.
He obeyed Crawford's rule that he never leave the citadel without ever questioning why. Everything he wanted was delivered for him if he simply asked.
Under the library of Lady Redgrove, who wrote him charming and witty letters, he was learning everything he wanted to know about pleasing Crawford, even if sometimes, when he opened one of the books, he still found his head tilting to better understand the illustration. Then he would sit in Crawford's bed and between them they would either laugh at the illustrations, because sometimes it was all you could do with them, and sometimes Ran found himself with his face pressed up against the wall and his legs spread as Crawford attempted something in the book, which often weren't as difficult as they looked.
From his window he watched the world pass him by and what surprised him most was the detail that he simply did not care, Crawford took care of all his needs, even those he had never known he had. Crawford kept him in books, in clothes, in sweets and Crawford loved him. Ran decided that was all he ever needed to know, that that was all he ever wanted.
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