Light and Shadow 2

Jun 02, 2005 17:56

Title: Light and Shadow 2 (a continuation of Permanent happiness)
Author: ratherbrightred
Pairing: Baldwin/Balian
Rating: nc-17!
Warnings: Unprotected leppy!sex. Also, Balian's practice of dipping from both sides of the ice cream cone (as it were) is probably not a good idea, but hell, Baldwin is close to death anyway.
Summary: An unabashedly plotless, sex-driven lepic. This exciting chapter: Balian laments various fashion choices, Baldwin continues to be weepy.
A/N: the angst, people! I'm really sorry. I have never written something so angsty in my life.

and a disclaimer: Obviously Baldwin & Balian are not gay together, although Baldwin doesn't have much of a choice, given that the only woman in the film is his sister. Nor does Tiberias harbor venereal diseases. None of these characters belong to me, and I mean no offense. Be sure to investigate the list of leprosy charities in the header for part one, as leprosy is very real, although my fic is not.



Well, the urge to itch my ass was not psychosomatic. Saladin sent five doctors to attend to Baldwin, and I managed to coax some medicine out of one of them through a process of gesturing at my behind and itching my skin. Tiberias seemed unconcerned, convinced I had contracted whatever lurked in my ass from Sibylla. "She didn't fuck me up the bum," I hissed at him, rolling my eyes.

"How am I supposed to know that? And don't be so petulant," Tiberias said, shaking his head. "Doesn't suit you."

We were talking in the doorway; Baldwin slept a few feet away from us. Tiberias had come by with two bowls of pudding, one for me and one for the king. "He likes this very much," Tiberias said, changing the subject and handing me the pudding.

"You should see Saladin's doctors too," I told him. "You're like…you're like a walking incubator of infectious diseases. And stay away from Baldwin. I don't want him to die because he caught crabs from his regent."

"Shush, Balian. Eat some pudding. I have to meet with the bishop again."

"Don't give him CRABS," I shouted, following him out into the hall. He waved his hand dismissively. I was so mad I nearly threw the puddings at the wall. A few servants turned and looked at me, then returned to their tasks. They were becoming used to me, and the girls no longer giggled and ran when they found me in the king's bed.

I made my way back to Baldwin and set the puddings on the table, sticking a finger in mine to taste it. He was curled up on his side, his knees pulled close to his chest. I sat beside him and rubbed his back, wondering who had devised the clown suit he was wearing. It was gold and black, and it had a ruffled collar and ruffles down the middle of it. His veil was tucked up under a huge hood, which had flopped down around his neck in his sleep. I was most anxious to change him back into his regular nightclothes, but it was only two in the afternoon. He'd been sleeping most of the day recently. I could tell he was becoming weaker. He'd stopped using his hands completely, and Saladin's doctors had wrapped them in dark bandages that looked like sock puppets. He hadn't been familiar with the sock puppet concept, and I tried to illustrate it, but after several moments of moving his hands and making up voices so they could talk to each other, I realized he was getting very little out of my thespian efforts.

"Baldwin," I whispered, moving my hand lower and cupping his little bottom. He sighed, but didn't wake up. A few days ago, he'd asked me to marry Sibylla. I said no, of course. I understood his logic, but I didn't want a wild pack of Templars coming after me after we killed Guy, and I also didn't want to deal with little Baldwin, who hated me fiercely. He blamed me for taking his uncle away from him, which was true, and he decided that the best way to express himself about this was to scream at me for sustained periods.

"Baldwin," I said again, a little louder. I rolled him over onto his back gently so I could pull his mask away, wrinkling my nose at the treatment Saladin's doctors had administered. Whatever they were doing was helping. I'd seen his skin improve dramatically. If only he could have seen them from the beginning. "Wake up, darling," I touched his cheek, setting the mask on the table beside the pudding. His eyes flickered open. "I have something for you." I scooped up a dollop of pudding on my finger and brought it to his lips.

"Tiberias was here?"

I nodded, feeding him another fingerful. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded, letting me pull him up and into my lap. I leaned against the headboard and held the bowl in his lap, bringing a spoonful to his lips. He shook his head and I went back to using my fingers, smiling as his little pink tongue emerged from the bandages to follow my fingertips as they left his mouth.

"Did you dream?"

"I dreamt of your father."

"What did you dream?"

"I dreamt that he was here, and we were eating dinner together, eating lamb. Godfrey had a fox with him, sitting at his feet, and when we were done eating, he said that the fox was a present for me. So he left it with me and it sat by my feet, hiding in my robes."

"And that was the end?"

"Then I woke up."

I smiled, feeding him another bite.

"I've never seen a fox, I've only seen drawings."

"I have."

"What do they look like?"

"They’re the size of small dogs, and they have red fur. And whiskers, they have black whiskers. What else haven't you seen?"

"I've never seen snow."

"What do you imagine it to be?"

"Like ice shavings, floating in the air."

"It can be like that, but usually it's softer than ice shavings, and lighter. Almost fluffy, like wool from a lamb. And it sticks to you, to your clothes and to the ground. And it's cold, of course."

"I haven't felt the cold in a long time."

"You've never felt cold if you've lived here your whole life."

"Perhaps not." We were down to the last of the pudding. I let my fingers linger in his mouth after scooping out the last bite.

"Do you want more? There's another bowl."

"You should have it." I switched bowls and spooned the white dessert into my mouth, listening to his breath deepen. He slept almost all the time. The last time we'd made love was two days ago, when I had very very gently taken his cock in my mouth, my hand running up and down his crack, pushing against him but not entering him. I slept with my hand on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. During the day I left him only when he saw his doctors and when I took my bath.

I sunk lower in the pile of pillows on his bed and held him close, moving down and resting my ear on his stomach, my arm around his waist. I smiled, listening to the pudding move through his body, his little gurgles and bubbles the same as anyone else's. I ran my hand over the hideous fabric that covered his legs, pulling it up over his knees. His usual white nightclothes peeked out underneath it. Thank goodness. I sat up and undressed him, pulling the pale blue robe I was partial to over the thin white silk. He didn't wake up as I covered him with a quilt and settled down over his stomach again, kissing the small swell of his belly when he hiccupped.

While Baldwin slept, I'd taken to running through lists of chores that remained to be done at Ibelin, then when I was done with that, making lists of repairs I would make in the old blacksmith shop. This list could occupy me for hours, because the first thing on the list was "build a new blacksmith shop." That day I was particularly excited about it and I got out a sheet of paper to sketch out a furnace design. I sprawled out on my stomach beside Baldwin, propping myself up on one elbow and drawing with my free hand. It was getting dark outside, and I got up to light a lamp, looking over at Baldwin when I slid back into bed. He was awake.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Maybe an hour. I've been listening to you. You're short of breath, like you're excited. What are you writing?"

"It's a new design for a furnace. For my shop."

"You want to go back, don't you? To the foxes and the snow?"

"I miss some things, yes," I said, putting my paper away and sitting beside him. I turned as Abul brought us dinner. It was too elaborate to be eaten in bed. I watched him set the table in the next room. "Do you want dinner?"

"No."

"Too bad," I said, picking him up and carrying him to the table. "Smells good."

"You can have mine."

I started feeding him bites of rice and vegetables, warning him before I put meat in his mouth.

"It's lamb," he said, looking over my shoulder. For a while I thought he was looking at someone behind me before I realized he was doing his best to meet my eyes. "Do you miss your father?"

"I do, although I never really knew him."

"He always wanted to find you, you know. I remember him talking about you."

"Well, I never saw him with a fox."

Baldwin smiled. I hoped he would stay awake for a few hours, long enough to talk, maybe long enough for a few kisses. I carried him back to bed, spinning him around in circles as we entered the room. "Are you dizzy?"

"No-"

"Then we're not done yet," I replied, spinning around faster. I stopped, and spun around in the other direction. "Now are you dizzy?"

"Please, I'll throw up my food if you don't stop-"

I laid him out on the bed, crawling over him and kissing him gently. "I'm dizzy every time I look at you," I told him, kissing his cheek. "Because I love you so much. I just want you to know how I feel."

"You're very sweet, Balian," he whispered, tilting his head and smiling at me. I kissed him again, opening my mouth and sucking on his lower lip. I felt his tongue push against my lips and shifted so I could take him in. "Every time we make love, I'm afraid it will be the last time," he said softly, kissing my cheek then my chin.

"Then we should never stop making love, so you don't have to worry. You'll know it won't be the last time."

"I've never been so tired before, Balian. And I don't do anything. I don't lift a finger." He sighed, tilting his hips up so I could pull him free of his robe.

"You're not well," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. "Of course you're tired." I kissed his cheek. "Are Saladin's doctors helping?"

"I think so. I don't know. I can't feel anything, and I can’t see anything…I'm glad you're here." He made eye contact with me accidentally, and I tried to hold his gaze.

"Don't…don't look away," I whispered as he looked to his right, over my shoulder. He looked back, but didn't catch my eye again.

He shook his head, reaching toward me with one of his sock puppets. I took his hand and held it to my chest, rubbing my palm over his knuckles, even though I knew he couldn't feel it.

"It must be like trying to talk with a tree, or a rock, or something dead, something that can't even see you or feel your touch."

"A rock can't talk," I said, sitting up and running my hand down his body. "A rock isn't ticklish," I whispered, my hand edging toward his armpit. He tensed in anticipation and I withdrew, letting my hand settle between his legs. "And a rock definitely can't do this." I heard him sigh, and knelt to let him open his legs wider. The sock puppet settled on my hip, rubbing against my clothes.

"Are you wearing the blue tunic? The one I had made for you?"

"Yes," I lied, glancing at the chair where the bright blue monstrosity was still crisply folded. "You know, you were wearing an absolutely hideous robe today. It looked like an old woman's house dress. An old woman who has lots of small, yappy dogs."

"Tomorrow you can dress me. You're not wearing the blue tunic. You're not a good liar. What are you wearing instead?"

"I'm wearing black trousers and a white cotton robe, a long one. It's a little dirty. I don't do so well with white."

"Take it off," he said, withdrawing his little sock puppet. I pulled the robe off and tucked it next to his head on the pillow. He turned to press his nose to it. "All of it," he added, smiling as I pulled away and added my trousers to the pile. "Good," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, rubbing against him slowly.

"I want you to lie down beside me." I did, letting the side of my body rest against his arm. "You let me take your fingers in my mouth," he said hesitantly, running his hand across my chest. "Would you…"

"Yes, of course," I whispered, guiding his mouth to my nipple. I wrapped my arm around his head, closing my eyes and focusing all my attention on Baldwin's small, gentle tongue. He curled up beside me and wrapped his leg around my waist.

He pulled away long enough to whisper, "Touch the other one. Pinch it." I obeyed, drawing in a sharp breath as he bit my flesh and pulled it away from my chest. I moved my other hand to my cock, but he stopped me, pulling away again. "No, not yet."

"As you wish," I whispered, feeling him grow hard against my hip. I was surprised he felt up to this, and even if he'd been well, I would have been shocked by his confidence. I don't think he'd ever told me what to do before.

He had a very clever mouth. "Baldwin, you'll undo me with that sweet tongue of yours," I whispered, smiling as he moved his leg lower to touch his thigh to my hard cock. He murmured something into my skin. "What, love?" I pulled his head away gently and scooted down so my face was level with his.

"Balian, I-"

"Tell me," I whispered.

"Will you-you can say no-will you touch me? Really touch me? Please-I-want to feel your skin. You can say no, I'll understand, but I think, well, Saladin's physicians seem to think it's all right, they touch me, my skin, and-"

"Ssh, stop babbling," I whispered, kissing his cheek and fumbling with his nightclothes. "I've wanted this from the start. You know that."

He nodded, lifting his hips so I could pull his trousers down. "I want to do this properly," I told him, hurriedly unbuttoning the neck of his gown and pulling it off. I thought he would stop me or be upset, but he just smiled at me, tilting his head back so I could nibble at his neck.

I was glad my crabs had finally departed as I reached into the silverware drawer and pulled out the vial of special slut oil that Tiberias had given him. I pulled him up under his knees and stacked two pillows under his hips before slicking my hand with oil and running my palm over his balls and up his cock. He moaned, skipping the whimpering phase entirely.

"Does that feel good?" I asked, smiling as he nodded and spread his legs wider. I bent down and took him in my mouth.

"You don't have to do that," he said, but he didn't pull away.

"This is what I've wanted to do ever since that first night," I whispered, pulling his thighs open before pushing my tongue between them, tasting him for the first time. I followed my tongue with a slippery finger, curling it up and swallowing his cock again, his moans dissolving into a constant, wavering high pitched keening sound. I pulled away and smiled, sitting up between his legs and adding another finger. He shut his eyes and bit his bottom lip, letting a high-pitched sound escape his mouth each time he exhaled. This was my first time hearing this third phase of noises Baldwin was producing. He started moving his hips against me as I added a third finger, his thighs dimpling where they met his sharp hipbones. He let his feet dangle at his sides and arched his back as I bent down to take a last taste of his dripping cock.

"Oh, please, Balian," he whimpered, his eyes snapping open as I removed my fingers.

I smiled, parting the soft skin around his pink opening with my thumbs and pushing into him, just an inch.

"You don't have to do that," he said again, his hips writhing against me. "Please don't, oh, please, oh yes-I mean-no-"

I ignored him, pushing in more deeply. He cried out, his mouth hanging open after his voice left him.

"More, Balian," he moaned, trying to push himself closer. "More, I want all of you, please, Balian, all of you." I obliged him.

I shut my eyes, almost coming from the feel of his flesh wrapped around me. "At last," I whispered, looking down at him and lightly touching my palm to his stomach, my hand hovering over his flushed pink skin. "You're so beautiful," I told him, my breath catching in my throat as his blind eyes met my gaze and held it. I let my hand wander down to his cock, pulling at him as I pushed into him, tipping my head back and shutting my eyes as I felt him quiver and tense around me. He reached out to me with his little sock puppet hands and pulled me down to him, kissing me deeply, first the side of my mouth and then my lips. It was a fierce, deep kiss that pulled my orgasm out of my throat, up from my toes, and into his tight, hot flesh. I felt him wrap his legs around my waist, still breathing hard.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"We could have been doing it right the whole time," I whispered. He shook his head.

"No, no I still don't think it's safe for you."

"I'll be fine," I said, kissing his eyelids gently. "My sweet, beautiful love, you could never hurt me."

He sighed, his legs slipping away from my body as his breath slowed. He was falling asleep, my cock still inside him. I pulled away and he turned his head, murmuring "I love you, Balian." I kissed his forehead.

"I know," I whispered, cleaning myself up before lifting his leg and wiping him with a wet cloth while he slept. I dressed him as gently as I could, easing the pillows out from under him. "And I love you," I added, pulling him close and wrapping my arms around him, my hand resting on his soft warm stomach. I made sure I could feel his breath moving in his body before I shut my eyes and let myself sleep.

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