Cloths of Heaven
(i)
Ran awoke to Crawford's gentle fingers tracing the curve of his back. It tickled and at first he tried to wriggle away from the intruding digits but as he quickly ran out of bed he realised that wasn't going to be an option so he chose the more direct option. He rolled over and faced Crawford on an equal level. “Morning,” he murmured sleepily.
“Morning.” Crawford answered. His amber eyes were predatory and there was a shadow of stubble on his chin. “How did you sleep?”
A thousand answers galloped through Ran's head, he had slept curled in the hollow of Crawford's shoulder, nestled against his strong chest, which now in the early daylight he could see had a slight smattering of crisp black hairs. He reached out, carefully, not sure of how much he was allowed, to touch them.
The men of Inabayama had scarce body hair, if any, he himself only had hair on his head and a smattering under his arms and on his groin so it caught him unawares to see so much hair. Crawford's smile was indulgent. “It's alright,” he said, “touch me as much as you like.”
Ran blushed clear to the roots of his hair. “I don't know how.” He said quietly.
“I know,” Crawford told him, “I wanted to be the one to teach you.” He reached out and pushed Ran's bangs back from his face. “I love your hair,” he said, “would you grow it, for me?” Ran smiled for him because that he could do, that wish it was easy to fulfil.
Ran's smile was so warm and inviting that Crawford had to kiss it. The boy's lips were like slices of fruit, soft and warm with a hint of salt from his sweat, as he pulled away to look at the boy's heavy lidded eyes he couldn't help but lick the taste of him from his lips. Ran was smiling, a little self-indulgently. “What?” Crawford asked with a smile.
“Yotan said there'd be lots more kissing.” He said, “He was right.”
“What else did Yohji tell you?” Crawford said, twirling one of Ran's ear tails in his fingers.
“That the king of Inabayama sent someone to teach me but you sent him and his books away, that you wanted to teach me.”
Crawford smiled, “That's true.” He said, “but what books? He didn't have books that I saw.”
“Schuldig said he showed up with a bag of dildos, and Yohji said that they were the books that cooks read, you know those books.” Crawford swallowed a laugh; it wouldn't do to laugh at the boy's naiveté. The tutor had been a slug of a man with maybe three hairs to his head and a box of porcelain penises with which he would have taught Ran all the pleasures to give a man. The man had been profusely sweating and Crawford got the impression that he got a certain enjoyment out of teaching young girls the arts of the bedroom, something that would have been exacerbated by Ran's innocence.
The man had been sent back to Inabayama almost before he had disembarked the boat.
Although Crawford might have taken a certain pleasure in having a boy who knew how to please him, there were advantages, he knew, in teaching him himself. Ran would want for nothing. He would learn at his own pace, without embarrassment or fear, because to do anything would shatter the innocence that the boy wore around him like a veil.
Yet, despite his good intentions, Crawford hungered.
There was a porcelain milkiness to the boy's skin in the predawn light that maddened him. He felt as soft as feather-tips against his fingers and the boy took the curiosity with a soft indulgence, like the puppy would his master's petting. He laid his hand against the quiver of Ran's belly as the boy let out an appealing peal of laughter. “What are you doing?” he asked, his smile was fond and rather loving, and his lips were reddened from the kisses. Crawford had been quick to learn that Ran liked kissing, and he was happily indulging.
“I'm learning you.” Crawford told him and then reached over and claimed the boy's lips with his own. Ran tasted of fruit and spring and when he opened his mouth slightly to better taste the boy he was surprised that Ran mirrored the action. The boy learnt quickly.
He flicked the tip of his tongue against Ran's lips but caught the boy when he jerked back. “What?” He asked, a little apprehensive but still licking his own lips, tasting Crawford there.
“It's just another way to kiss you.” Crawford told him, “we don't have to do it if you don't like it, but I thought you might like to try.” Ran frowned for a moment as he considered it, he was obviously unaware of the very suggestion. “Why don't we try it, and if you don't like it we won't do it again.”
That appeased the boy and he reached forward for Crawford to kiss him again, as Crawford gently plundered the boy's mouth with his tongue, chasing Ran's own, which was as shy as the boy himself, he started drumming his finger tips of the slim expanse of the boy's belly, just above the line of his waistband knowing that soon he would plunge his fingers underneath the fabric.
Ran was his now, and the only thing that might stop him was the boy's tears.
He wanted Ran to enjoy it because if he did then he would do it more often.
Ran was raising himself into the kiss, his fingers were still on the back of Crawford's neck, light pads of pressure as Crawford pressed the boy with his shoulders into the down mattress. There had to be some evidence of sex in the bed or the marriage would be void and Crawford fully intended to enjoy it, slithering the tips of two fingers into the waistband of Ran's sleeping pants.
Ran jerked back with his hips even as he pressed his face closer to Crawford's taking deep ragged breaths through his nose. Crawford used his free hand to smooth Ran's hair, like he was stroking a skittish horse and Ran settled into the gesture frightened but soothed by the gesture. Taking permission from the gesture Crawford slipped his hand into Ran's pants, above the line of wiry curls but deep enough that Ran knew it was there.
To his credit although he was wary of the touch he didn't back down from it this time. “I don't know,” Ran murmured against his mouth.
“Trust me,” Crawford told him, biting the boy's fruit soft lips, “you're doing fine.” He traced his mouth along the smooth line of Ran's jaw, mouthing kisses along the curve of his throat. “Have you never touched yourself?” He asked.
“No,” Ran whimpered, unsure of what to do but enjoying what was happening regardless.
Crawford had a sudden image of the boy's hand on his own swollen cock, a cock that even now was slowly stirring against his thighs, he could see it through the thin sleeping pants. “Would you like to know how?” He asked then, more than anything right now, he wanted to see the boy touch himself.
Ran nodded, biting his lips. “Raise your hips.” Crawford said, slipping his hand from Ran's pants to tug on the waistline. Ran looked at him wide eyed, “You can't learn if you can't see.” Crawford soothed, Ran lifted his hips and allowed Crawford to pull down his pants to reveal his stirring erection to his husband. “Beautiful,” Crawford said softly then kissed Ran softly on the nose and chin, “just beautiful.”
Ran was blushing as red as his hair, his entire face, chest and throat were flushed with pink as Crawford trailed his finger tips along the boy's breastbone. “It will feel really good,” Crawford soothed, “I promise, this is what comes after the kissing.” He reached up and kissed the boy again.
Reaching across the boy's stomach he gently lifted his right hand, smoothing his thumb over the palm before he brought his hand over to the boy's erection and held it in place there. Ran blushed even brighter, and covered his eyes with his left hand. “It's all right,” Crawford soothed, “I want to see.” Pulling Ran's hand gently away from his eyes he clutched it in his own, “so beautiful.” His voice was calm and whispery, “so very beautiful.”
Ran was lost to his forcefulness but never without the impression that he could, at any moment, escape it. He could stop it if he said, but this was what Crawford wanted, and pleasing Crawford was his duty to Inabayama. He had been married to him not by choice, although he might not have chosen differently, but for Inabayama. Part of him wondered, if he didn't want this also.
Crawford lifted his right hand and brought it slowly, palm down, just light enough to touch, over his cock. He had never felt anything like this before, even though his eyes were screwed tight, Crawford holding his hands tight kept him anchored. The sensation from his cock arced along his nerves and pooled in his stomach, he couldn't help his mouth falling open with an exhalation. It felt so good.
He had never felt anything like this before. He opened his eyes slightly, biting down on his lower lip to see that Crawford was indulgently smug. Then Crawford did it again, guiding his hand to touch himself. He couldn't look at what Crawford was making him do, as good as it felt it was terribly embarrassing, but he could stare at Crawford's rapt attention. As odd as Ran found it Crawford was enjoying the spectacle.
He pushed the tips of Ran's fingers to the underside of his swollen cock and listened with undisguised pleasure to the boy's ragged moan. He had had no idea that Ran's naiveté would be so empowering, the boy was seeping, his cock wet and slick against his fingers, Crawford could feel it against his own hand as well. He was the one using Ran's hand to stroke himself, he was the one who was manipulating Ran's hips off the bed with the touch he had never had before, he was the one making Ran squirm.
And he liked it.
Ran came with a broken sigh and his back arching.
Crawford ignored his own aching erection and just stroked the boy's arm and kissed his neck. “Beautiful,” he murmured again, “so very beautiful.” But Ran was already asleep.
|