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Baldwin's secret pastime 3/?
By ratherbrightred
Baldwin/Tiberias
NC-17!
Warnings: handicrafts




The day after my close brush with being permanently attached to Baldwin's person, he seemed quite shy at our morning meeting, even embarrassed. He kept me after the meeting and started stammering. "I'm sorry, Tiberias, for yesterday, I…don't know what I was thinking, I'm terribly sorry-"

"You've nothing to be sorry for."

"Oh. I…I woke up in a…in a, well, compromised position, and I was afraid you had…you know-"

"No, on the contrary, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I awoke in a state of a…arou…a…"

"Arousal?"

"Yes, that."

"Well, I assure you I had nothing to do with it. When I left, you were drooling and making indistinct noises into your pillow."

"Forget I said anything."

"I'll try," I assured him, smiling to myself as I left his outer chamber. Such a sweet man, unable to even utter words like "arousal."

My dreams of debauching Baldwin had mercifully ceased after I was treated to an afternoon of poking, stroking, and snuggling him. I'd noticed the knitting was tapering off somewhat, with Mrs. Gilbert turning up less frequently. I pulled on a pair of black and yellow striped socks given to me by the king and slid into bed wearily. A typical night found me naked, except for the socks, and buried under a stack of quilts. That night I was especially ready for sleep. I had gone to the stables and observed Baldwin's new riding procedures. I didn't envy him. Being tied to my horse would surely give me nightmares also. He seemed better adapted to it than he let on, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. I tried to say supportive things, and was on hand for a horsemanly hug and back-slap afterwards, but there was very little I could do aside from hope Baldwin didn't have to ride anywhere soon.

I had slept for a few solid hours when I heard a rustle beside me, as if someone was parting the curtains around my bed. Was it Zehra? I looked up and was very surprised to see Baldwin standing there, pale as a ghost in his white nightclothes, his veil covering his bandaged, unmasked face.

"Baldwin?" I croaked, my voice hoarse with sleep.

"I'm sorry, Tiberias," he whispered, dropping the curtain. I peered out.

"What is it, Baldwin? Did you have a bad dream?"

He turned, nodding hesitantly.

"Come on, then," I said, pulling up the edge of the blankets. He slipped in beside me and I shut the curtains.

"Please don't, I don't like the dark."

"As you wish." I opened one curtain and he nodded, curling up beside me and burrowing into the warm spot I had left behind.

"Your bed is so warm," he sighed.

"Was it the same dream as before?"

"Yes," he whispered, his small hands clasped at his chin. "When will Godfrey be back?" he asked abruptly.

"No idea. You're getting better at riding like that. I could tell you were more comfortable by the end of your ride."

"I suppose."

I reached out and pulled him closer, kissing his forehead. His bandages were soft and dry under my lips. I let my mouth linger there, warming his skin under the cloth.

"Tiberias, you're so good to me."

"It's because I like your socks so well," I admitted, smirking at him and lifting the sheet so he could see I was wearing them. I realized too late that he got to see quite a bit more than the socks.

"Oh goodness," he squeaked, drawing his breath in as I lowered the sheet. He looked a bit disappointed when I covered myself up again.

"Do you want to look at me?" I asked, not waiting for his small nod before lighting a candle and pulling the blankets away completely. It was cold without them; my nipples stood up and I saw gooseflesh cover my hip.

"You've so many scars," Baldwin said, taking his hand from under the blankets and touching them, starting with the very unattractive blotch over my heart. He moved his hand down to my stomach, then the outside of my hip. I bit my lip to keep from wincing. That was the wound that had stiffened my leg, and it was still tender sometimes.

"You must have your share as well," I said, wondering if I would get to see them, or if he would stay immaculately white for the duration of whatever we did that night. I sensed that we were both wide awake, and that Baldwin was feeling curious. I moved his hand away from my hip, not quite intentionally letting it brush against my half-hard cock. Something about his quiet, intent gaze had me very excited. The brush of his silk bandages made me perk up a bit more. Through his bandages it looked like Baldwin had raised his eyebrows. His hand rested on my stomach, just above my cock, and then slowly lowered, curving up to grip me lightly between his silky fingers.

"Have you ever had a lover?" I asked him, not surprised by his soft "No."

"Would you take me as your lover? Do I please you that way?"

"Oh yes," he whispered, his eyes wide as I took the back of his head in my hand and kissed his lips gently. His jaw was locked tight. I pulled on his chin, opening his mouth.

"Relax," I told him, trying again. I licked the inside of his lips, tilting my head and pulling him closer as I felt his warm little tongue poking into my mouth tentatively. I covered up again, running my hand down his back, searching for the fastenings of his nightclothes. I couldn't find them, so I gathered up the hem until I could rest my hand on the bare skin of his lower back, slipping under his waistband and spreading my fingers over his small bottom, my middle finger slipping down his crack and poking his entrance gently. He gasped and pulled away.

"What…what do you want back there?" he asked, alarmed.

"Baldwin, surely you know how this works."

He shook his head, and I remembered how sheltered his life had been, and that he had never done this before.

"I'll show you," I said, in what I hoped was a calm, reassuring voice that didn't betray the tense, tight feeling growing in my groin. "I'll be gentle," I promised, kissing his neck and shoulders, my hand running up his back and around his hollow stomach. "You're so thin, my lord, yet you eat so many sweets. How is this possible?"

Baldwin shook his head, smiling. "I don't know," he whispered, biting his lip and letting a little "meep!" escape his throat as I ran my thumb over his nipple.

Baldwin unclenched his jaw, and I felt his hands on my head as I dropped down to his chest and buried my face in his nightclothes, nosing them aside until I could wrap my lips around the small nub of his nipple. He moaned when I took him between my teeth, my tongue poking the tip of his warm, soft flesh. Meanwhile, my hands fumbled with his pajama bottoms, finally figuring out that they tied with a drawstring. I made short work of it and pushed them down to his knees, grabbing hold of his already-hard cock and pulling on it gently. Zehra had replenished my oil supply, so I leaned over him and rummaged through my drawer, looking for it. Baldwin was clever enough to attach his warm mouth to my own nipple while I was stretched out before him.

I pulled the sheets away and looked at him, surprised by how normal his skin looked in the candlelight. All the bad parts must be bandaged. I saw the body of a thin but not unusual young man when I looked at Baldwin. His stomach fluttered with rapid breaths, and his crotch was almost hairless, as if he was only starting puberty.

"You're beautiful, Baldwin," I told him, not surprised when he pulled his knees up to his chest, realizing I had been looking at him. "Don't be shy," I added, pulling him out flat and slipping his soft silk pajama bottoms down to his ankles. His nightshirt followed, leaving him bare, aside from the bandages. He looked very feminine, with bandages ending just above his knees and elbows, as if he wore a whore's stockings and gloves. The veil added to this effect and made me smile. I toyed with the edge of it, pulling it over his bandaged face and kissing him through the fine fabric. I had found the oil, and coated my palm with it before returning to his softening cock. He liked what I was doing, I could tell. His hips moved against me, and he watched me intently, opening his mouth and making a very satisfied sound as I bent over him and took him in my mouth, my tongue teasing that sensitive spot underneath the head.

"I never…I never thought of this," he whispered, pushing his hips into my mouth insistently. Such a pure soul, oral sex having never once occurred to him. I pulled away and parted his legs with my hands, licking his tight, pink hole experimentally, to see what he would do. He gasped, but didn't pull away, so I pushed my tongue in, an oily finger following it shortly. I sat up between his legs, watching him move against my finger, quite aroused and apparently enjoying himself. He was about to enjoy himself more.

"What is that?" he asked, clenching the sheets and opening his eyes wide as I curled my finger, barely brushing his sensitive spot.

"It's why everyone should get fucked often and well," I told him, adding a second finger and pulling him open, my mouth watering at the thought that my cock would soon be buried in that tight heat.

"Are you…do you mean to…"

"To fuck you? Does that please you? Do you want me to?" I curled my fingers up again and he nodded, spreading his legs wider and whimpering as I pulled my fingers out. I situated a pillow under him, stroking his thighs gently. "Patience, Baldwin," I whispered, holding his hips still and pushing into him slowly. "Do you like that?"

I smiled as he nodded, opening his mouth to speak but not able to make any sound. He was tight and close the way only a virgin could be, but he moved his hips as if he'd been doing this his whole life, tilting them up and down in an effort to simulate my curled fingers. I changed my angle and helped him, grinning as he moaned with each stroke. I wondered if he could come without his cock touched, and soon discovered that he could. His ass tightened around me, his back arched, and his hands gathered up more sheets and blankets, clenching them with all his strength. He went limp, wrapping his arms around me as I lowered myself close to his chest and finished with a few hard thrusts and a grunt.

I buried my face in his neck, warming his bandages with my mouth and wrapping my arms around him. I stayed there a long time, at last deducing that Baldwin had fallen asleep. His breath was soft and deep, an occasional half-snore interrupting his slumber. I pulled out of him as slowly and gently as I could. He sighed, biting his lip as I dabbed at his hole with the rag I kept next to the oil for precisely these moments. I managed to crawl out of bed without waking him and wash myself quickly at the basin before crawling back in and gathering him in my arms. I blew out the candle and closed the curtains, forgetting his preference for light.

The following morning I was rudely awakened by one of my guards, Richard, who reported directly to me and took his job very seriously.

"Tiberias, sir," he said, pulling my bedcurtains open while still speaking. "The king is missing-" he stopped abruptly, noticing the king's pale, bandaged face tucked under my chin. I covered him up with the blankets, looking up at Richard and nodding.

"Thank you, Richard, but I seem to have located him."

"Well done, sir. I'll…be going now."

"Yes, you do that. Good day," I said, seriously considering the merits of a lock on my bedroom door. Especially now that both Baldwin and Zehra were apt to arrive chez moi.

"Who was that?" Baldwin asked, pulling the blankets away from his face and propping himself up on his elbows.

"Richard, my over-zealous chief of the palace guard. He was concerned for your safety, seeing as how you're not in your bed."

"I left my mask there," he said, concerned. "Did he see me without it?"

"Only for the briefest moment."

Baldwin nodded, sitting up and looking around. "I don't think I've ever been in your room. All those knives on your wall are kind of threatening, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," I agreed, running my hand down his bare back. He didn't look as healthy as he had appeared last night-his skin was unnaturally pale, with a strange dry flaky quality in places. He pulled the blankets around himself, remembering that he was naked, while still looking around my room curiously.

"How many of those blue capes do you have?"

"A few." Baldwin scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up, walking to my window and peering out at a black and white cat perched on the sill. He tapped the window and she meowed. Baldwin glanced down at the floor and saw her little set of bowls. I shut my eyes. My cat was discovered.

"Does she want to come inside?" Baldwin asked, opening the window and watching Heloise, as I called her, land lightly at his feet. "You have a pet cat?" Baldwin asked, turning toward me and smiling. "What's her name?"

"Heloise."

"Heloise." The king crouched beside her and watched her sip her water demurely. I had a nice view of his pink, hairless hole. Heloise sniffed at him cautiously, then made a beeline for my bed, where she rubbed her nose against my forehead and settled down under my chin, precisely where Baldwin had been resting his head earlier.

Baldwin wandered my room, fingering the tapestry on my wall and even peeking inside my cupboards. He looked at my bookshelf, much smaller than his own, and ran his bandaged fingertips over the hilt of my sword before moving on to my closet, opening the door and running his hands over my collection of blue and black uniforms. He found the chamber pot and glanced over at me before crouching over it.

"Tiberias, this is very embarrassing, but you'll have to wipe me off." The poor man, he couldn't even take a shit by himself. I obliged, taking advantage of the pot myself while Baldwin watched me intently. I stuck the pot outside my door and heard it being collected moments later.

Baldwin was perched on the edge of my bed, trying to befriend Heloise. She wasn't terribly friendly, if truth be told, but Baldwin was doing all the right things, slowly extending his hand then waiting for her to come sniff at it. I sat down beside him, pulling him into my lap and letting my cock harden between his thighs. Heloise came closer now that she saw I approved of Baldwin. She swiped at his hand, then crawled into his lap, kneading his stomach with her paws.

"Have you ever had a pet, Baldwin?" I asked, shifting his hips in my lap to better push against his balls with my stiff cock.

"No," Baldwin said, arching his back against me. Heloise took that as her cue to leave, and ensconced herself on my chair across the room. Baldwin's crack was still slick from last night; thinking about the previous evening made me push into him a little harder. "Did you like last night?" I whispered, holding his hips still against my own.

He nodded, letting his head drop back on my shoulder as I ran my hands over his thighs, resting them on his stomach before slipping down and teasing the tip of his cock.

"Do it again," he whispered, sighing as I pulled away and pulled the bed-curtains closed. I sorted through the bedclothes to find the vial of oil before lying down and sitting the king in my lap, cradling his hips between my thighs. I slipped my hand between our bodies and started preparing him, smiling at his little noises, happy coos like a baby would make. The bandages on his legs were starting to slip down, revealing one or two horrible looking patches of skin, and the bandage on his right arm had completely unraveled, it was bunched around his wrist with a long trail dragging behind him.

"May I help you with that?" I asked, moving to do it up again.

"No, it's all right. That is, if I don't repulse you-"

"Of course not."

"It's just that there's a trick to it, and my nurse does it best."

"I do know how to tie up a wound," I assured him, but he shook his head, pushing my hand away and rubbing against my cock eagerly. I smiled; he was like a petulant child, about to slap me around if he didn't get his way. I was happy to give into him, holding my cock still and watching him slowly impale himself on it.

"Why have I never done this before?" he asked me, moving against me slowly, enjoying every inch. "I'm sure I had opportunities before now. Saladin asked me to visit his tent that one time when we were in negotiations."

"Saladin?"

Baldwin nodded, looking slightly bashful. "I think him rather handsome."

I made a neutral noise.

"And Godfrey, I think Godfrey came on to me, what, at least a dozen times, but I was too stupid to figure it out."

"What did he do?" I asked, rocking my hips against Baldwin's tight heat, my hand massaging his small, smooth balls.

"He was forever giving me shoulder rubs, and asking me if I was comfortable, and would I like to take a quick nap in his bed. And one time, he felt me up while I was ill. I distinctly remember it, he had his hand on my thigh, which was bad enough, and then he sort of poked around my private bits when he thought I was sleeping." Baldwin shivered. "I would have slapped him if I'd had the energy. I hope his son is safe with him. Leave it to Godfrey to have little bastard Godfreys running around every country in Europe." The king shook his head, still happily fucking himself. I heard my servants bring my tea, and put a finger to my lips. Baldwin, little pervert that he was, grinned at me and sped up his efforts, forcing me to bite my fingers to keep quiet.

"You," I whispered, as soon as I heard my door click shut, "are cruel, expecting me to stay quiet when you're taking my cock like a greedy whore." My words appeared to excite him; his cock was dripping wet and his eyes were dark with lust as I grabbed his hips and held him still, wanting to control my last few strokes. I made every effort to push against his sensitive spot, and was rewarded with his hot come on my chest. He leaned back against my knees and smiled at me, the slow, lazy smile of a sated lover.

I managed to lift him up and situate him in the warm spot I had left behind, bending between his legs and lapping my come from his hole until he squirmed and bucked his hips, trying to force my tongue in deeper. "Insatiable," I murmured, licking my way up to his balls, my finger replacing my tongue as I swallowed his cock, dripping again as if he'd never relieved it in the first place.

"Turn around," he said, pulling on my hair. I obliged, crawling over him so I straddled his face. I moaned into his cock when I felt his tongue tease the head of my own. His silky fingers wrapped around me and he bit into me gently, dragging his teeth along my length. I would never have guessed this was his first time at this; his technique was admirably efficient. Sooner than I would have liked, we were both limp and spent, my nose nestled in his sparse pubic hair. I had rolled to the side slightly, and I could feel his breath against my thigh. My thoughts strayed to my tea, which was hopefully still hot in its cozy. I peered out of the bed-curtains. Heloise was staring at me reproachfully. She was undoubtedly jealous of my new bedfellow. She'd never taken to Zehra, preferring to have me all to herself. There were two tea cups on the tray, so I poured Baldwin a cup as well, happy to note that it was still steaming.

"Tea?" I helped him sit up and held the back of his head while he sipped from the hot cup. "Let me help you with your bandages," I said, taking his arm and pulling what was left of the bandages away. His hand looked horrible, as if he was already dead and decomposing, his fingers grown together, substantial bits missing, and the whole mess covered in bloody sores. "You poor thing," I whispered, wrapping his fingers gently.

"When I die, they'll have to cut my ring off," he said, looking a bit smug at the thought. "Guy will wear it knowing my foul flesh grew over it like moss on a log."

"Let's not think about Guy wearing your ring just yet." I was relieved to have his hand covered, and I moved up his arm more quickly, less affected by the assortment of sores and what looked to be gangrenous bits. "Poor, poor darling," I murmured, tying off the bandage and sighing. "I do not envy you, Baldwin," I sighed, gathering him in my arms and kissing his forehead. I rested my chin on top of his head and rubbed his back absently. This was most unexpected. I felt that I was already too attached. My heart threatened to break at the thought of him dying, and that was exactly what he would do, and soon. He smelled of death already, his shallow breath tainted with it, and his hands almost useless. I was amazed he could manage knitting needles, but love for wooly socks triumphs in even the most adverse circumstances.