The Tailor and the Prince

by Pelaam

  “Hayate, your balloon. It’s fully repaired isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes, Bertie-san. But, surely, you aren’t thinking of leaving?” Hayate looked from Bertie to Tom and back again.

  “Not in the least. How does spending a couple of hours in Hayate’s balloon sound to you, Ichi-chan? Makoto and Keitaro can come, too. And have hand-chosen guards in the vicinity. We can take a picnic. If you think you can defy Takeshi.”

  “Yes, I can, and I shall.” Ichirou took hold of Bertie’s medallion as though drawing strength. “I would love to take a ride in your balloon, Hayate. Makoto, you will make the arrangements for guards, and I would have Cherry Blossom in attendance. She’ll know the choicest titbits to take with us, too.”

  “It shall be as you command, Ichirou-san.” Makoto smiled and bowed. “Let us return to the palace, and I will arrange for your balloon to be taken into the palace grounds, Hayate. You will need to supervise.”

  “I’ll help.” Tom laid a hand on Hayate’s shoulder.

  “Keitaro, you will remain with Bertie-san and Prince Ichirou while we get things ready. I will pick only those guards I trust implicitly.”

  Standing beside Bertie, Ichirou leaned lightly against him. “I am ready to face Takeshi. And his will shall not overpower mine this time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The extent to which Ichirou had recovered in just a few short hours, was more than amply demonstrated when he faced down a furious Takeshi. Standing a little way back from the prince and his courtier, Bertie waited, ready to dash forward if Ichirou looked to be faltering.

  “You cannot be serious, Ichirou-denka. Go up in a balloon? When you are not well?” Takeshi kept his hands hidden in his kimono, and Bertie was certain it was to hide that they’d be balled into fists.

  “You didn’t seem so concerned about my welfare this morning, Takeshi. In fact, you were the one who insisted I got out of bed. You insisted I needed to be in the throne room, giving my decision. But now, you want me back in bed because I’m unwell.”

  “It was you who wished to rise. Do you not remember? I—”

  “Insisted I rise. I remember all too clearly. I feel well enough to spend some time simply enjoying myself. I wish to take a ride in Blackwood-san’s balloon. Makoto and Keitaro will accompany me, as will Cherry Blossom, so I shall be well chaperoned.”

  “Foolishness.” Takeshi tried to intimidate with his height, closing the space between himself and Ichirou and staring down at him.

  With a quick flick of his wrist, in a movement that would make Cherry Blossom proud, Ichirou snapped open a fan from inside his kimono sleeve. He fluttered it in Takeshi’s direction as if the courtier was a particularly annoying insect, forcing Takeshi to take a couple of steps back.

  Bertie hid his grin behind his hand. Well done, Ichirou. He coughed quickly as Takeshi’s cold gaze fixed on him.

  “Is this your idea?” Takeshi demanded, taking a step toward Bertie.

  “Not at all.” Bertie shook his head. “Captain Makoto told me. I’ve had my men get the balloon ready as he requested. Then I was told to report here.”

  “Perfect.” Ichirou left Takeshi and walked over to Bertie. “As soon as Captain Makoto arrives, we shall go and see your balloon, and I shall take a ride in it.”

  “As you wish, Ichirou-denka.” Bertie bowed, mainly to hide his grin, and by the time he straightened up, he’d resumed his serious mien.

  A moment later, Makoto strode into the throne room and bowed before Ichirou.

  “The preparations have been made, Ichirou-denka. I have guards to protect the ground while you are in the air. All hand-picked men.”

  “Excellent.” Ichirou clapped his hands. “Lead on, Captain. Come, Blackwood-san.”

  In the palace grounds Hayate’s balloon was already inflated, and Hayate, Tom, Cherry Blossom, and Keitaro waited in the gondola.

  Bertie stood back while Makoto fussed over Ichirou getting safely into the gondola, then the soldier marched around it, speaking to each guard in turn. He nodded at Bertie.

  “They are ready, Blackwood-san.”

  “Good. Is the anchor secure, Hayate? Bertie called out.

  “Yes, Bertie-san. Tom and I both made sure it was very secure, and Makoto has two men to protect it.” Hayate waved at Bertie from his position at the back of the gondola.

  “Excellent. Well, then, Captain. After you.” Bertie indicated for Makoto to board, and then followed him. While Bertie moved to stand beside Ichirou, Tom hauled up the steps and closed the rail. “We’re ready, Hayate. Let her rise.”

  Hayate replied with a wave, and the balloon, along with the gondola, started to rise. Ichirou gave a soft exclamation and grabbed for Bertie’s hand.

  “I’ve never done this.”

  “It’s perfectly safe, Ichi-chan.” Bertie stood close, squeezing the prince’s hand.

  “Can we stand somewhere a little less crowded?” Ichirou asked, and Bertie glanced around.

  Tom stood beside Hayate, Cherry Blossom leaned into Makoto who purposely seemed not to notice, and Keitaro stared over the gondola rail as the balloon rose. With a nod, Bertie led Ichirou to the other side of the deck.

  This side overlooked the river and countryside, rather than the palace and Ichirou laughed with delight.

  “It’s all so beautiful. Thank you so much, Bertie-chan.” Ichirou turned from the panoramic views and gazed at Bertie. “There will be plenty of time for me to see more. Are there more private quarters we can go to?”

  “Below deck.” Bertie had to swallow around a suddenly dry mouth, and his voice dropped in timbre.

  Hand in hand, Bertie led Ichirou to the stairs leading below deck. As he was about to descend, Cherry Blossom looked over her shoulder. She smiled and nodded, before turning her attention back to the views from the gondola.

  “She told me there would be some fragrant oil in the picnic basket. That we’d need it.” Ichirou’s whispered words set a fire in Bertie’s blood. He looked back at the prince.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Ichirou nodded. “I dreamed of you when the fever gripped me. I’m sure it was my desire to see you again, to be in your arms, that helped me.”

  Unable to speak, Bertie nodded. At the bottom of the stairs, he found the basket that Cherry Blossom had brought aboard. Opening it, he peered inside. Aside from the food and drink, there was a black lacquer bottle. A gold dragon wound its way around the bottle, created in exquisite detail.

  Reaching past, Ichirou took the bottle, then offered it to Bertie. “Please, Bertie-chan.”

  Their fingers touched as Bertie accepted the bottle, and nervousness thrummed along with desire in his veins.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he confessed. “Although I am aware of what must be done.”

  “Neither have I. But Cherry Blossom has explained everything to me. I wish to give my body to you, and to you alone, my beloved.” Ichirou laid his hand on Bertie’s cheek.

  Bertie covered the hand with his own and turned enough to kiss the palm. Then taking hold of it, led Ichirou through to the area that he and Tom had used when coming to the prince’s province. That seems like a lifetime ago.

  As they entered the small cabin, the changing reality tangled itself around Bertie’s mind, seducing him with possibilities that had only existed in his dreams. Do dreams really come true? Is this real? He was almost afraid to reach out for the gift love had put within his reach.

  Yet Ichirou was there. Waiting, his head cast slightly down, as if Bertie was the prince and Ichirou waiting for Bertie’s command. The enormity of what they were about to do sent twinges of panic to tingle in Bertie’s mind. He stood at the edge of a precipice, his footing unsure.

  Once they took this irrevocable step, it was impossible to go back, and Bertie had no real previous experience on which to call to direct him through this foreign territory.

  “I await your commands, my love.” Ichirou finally broke the silence. �
��Here, you must guide me. I want to love you with all I have. My body aches for you in ways I could never imagine existed. Please, Bertie. Our time is limited. Love me.”

  There was no fear, no hesitation in Ichirou’s voice, just a quiet confidence that seeped into Bertie’s blood. He nodded.

  “We’ll remove your kimono, and I shall take off my jacket and shirt. It’ll be more comfortable to start with.” Bertie shucked off his jacket, tossing it aside, then unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of it, and throwing it to land on the jacket.

  “Are you uncomfortable being naked with me?” Bertie asked. He’d turned to look at Ichirou who hadn’t moved.

  “Oh, no.” Ichirou shook his head. “But I’m normally dressed and undressed by a manservant. I didn’t think.”

  “Don’t worry. I studied your clothing while making my examples. I know exactly what to do.” Bertie reached for the obi, undoing the sash slowly, allowing Ichirou time to object should he change his mind.

  Leaning in to claim a kiss, Bertie pushed the kimono off Ichirou’s shoulders, the silken garment slithering to the floor. Easing back, Bertie held out his hand, and when Ichirou took it, he led his beloved to the bed.

  “I wish it was a bed more befitting. One with space and comfort and silken sheets.”

  “All I need is you, Bertie.” Ichirou undid the tie of his under-garment, letting the hadajuban fall to the ground as he stretched out on the bed fully naked, and fully aroused. He held out his arms. “Come to me, please.”

  His own clothing quickly removed, Bertie hesitated for a moment as Ichirou gazed up at him.

  “You’re the first man to see me fully naked, like this.” Bertie indicated his own upstanding arousal, and Ichirou smiled.

  “Others have seen me naked when they bathed or dressed me. But none have seen me like this, either. I want to touch you. I’ve never seen a man with so much hair on his body before.”

  Looking down at himself, Bertie had to admit he was far hairier than Ichirou. His lover-to-be had smooth skin, and the modest nest haloing his erect prick looked as if it was purposely trimmed.

  Although Bertie didn’t consider himself particularly hirsute, he did have a good dusting across his chest, and along his forearms and shins. And after looking at the thick thatch at his groin, Bertie grinned at Ichirou.

  Even though it was obvious from Ichirou’s touches that the prince wasn’t experienced, what he lacked in finesse, he made up for in enthusiasm. Bertie desperately wanted to ensure Ichirou would remember making love with him for all the right reasons, but knew that time was against them.

  “Bertie. We may only have this one time. I cannot foresee the future, and I know this is not your world. I-I love you. I want to give myself to you, even if I never know your touch again. At least I’ll have the memory to cling to. I want my love for you to be consummated, bonding us forever.”

  “I’m no prince, but I love you, too.” Bertie leaned over Ichirou, kissing him, trying to imbue the kiss with all the love he felt.

  “Make love to me?” It was half a request, and half a demand. Bertie smiled, turning his head to kiss the palm of Ichirou’s hand.

  “Always.” It was a promise Bertie knew he’d always keep.

  Kisses to Ichirou’s lips soon moved lower as Bertie skimmed his lips down Ichirou’s neck and onto the smooth chest. Ichirou ran his fingers through Bertie’s hair, sighing and writhing as Bertie teased peaked nipples. Bertie deliberately played the small bronze nubs, seeing just how much pleasure it gave Ichirou.

  Taking one plump nub into his mouth, Bertie suckled, then scraped the flesh with his teeth, and Ichirou arched up into the suction, groaning. Bertie took the opportunity to slide a hand down to fondle Ichirou’s sac while sucking on the darkly burnished nipples.

  “Want you, Bertie,” Ichirou whispered. “Want you inside me.”

  “I will be.” Bertie eased back and smiled down at Ichirou. “Later.” Bertie smiled as he cupped Ichirou’s face tenderly in his hands. “When you’re a little more relaxed. Right now, I want to love you in another way.”

  As Bertie made love to Ichirou, kissing and nipping his way down toward the hard flesh that silently begged for his attention, his beloved moaned and murmured words of love and devotion that aroused Bertie as much as the physical act itself.

  Bertie glanced up to savor the sight of Ichirou lost in his passion. The long, dark hair spread out over the silk-encased pillows that Cherry Blossom had so thoughtfully supplied. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened against Ichirou’s skin.

  Unable to resist any longer, Bertie lowered his head and took Ichirou’s prick into his mouth. Ichirou stifled a scream of pleasure, then grabbed handfuls of the sheets, trying to thrust as he moaned Bertie’s name.

  Keeping hold of Ichirou’s cock with one hand, Bertie held his lover’s hips in place with the other as he bathed the flesh he held with his tongue. Bertie used his mouth, tongue, and teeth to drive Ichirou wild with desire.

  He swirled his tongue over the slick head, sucked along its length, even gentle nipping. He traced the prominent vein up and down with his tongue. Finally, he slid down the firm flesh, sucking hard. The reaction was all could have hoped for.

  “Bertie. Bertie I-I … oh.” Ichirou’s voice trailed away into a moan of pleasure as he spilled, and Bertie sucked him deeply, eagerly taking all his lover had to offer.

  When Ichirou sagged, boneless, his climax finally over, Bertie stretched out beside his lover. He held Ichirou close, letting him gather his breath. When Ichirou opened his eyes and gazed at Bertie, his incandescent smile warmed Bertie’s heart and soul, and he leaned over to claim a kiss.

  Ichirou darted his tongue past Bertie’s lips and Bertie chased it back with his own, sliding it against his lover’s slick organ before easing back slowly. The next few minutes were spent kissing and caressing. As Ichirou caught one of Bertie’s nipples between his teeth, Bertie ran his hands along his lover’s back in languid strokes, slowly restoking the fire of arousal.

  Finally, Bertie could wait no longer, his own arousal ached from need. “Let me show you love, Ichirou.”

  With gentle urging, Bertie arranged Ichirou to lay on his stomach, a pillow under his hips to raise them up. Then, leaning over the edge of the bunk, Bertie picked up the bottle of scented oil. Bertie settled himself straddling Ichirou’s thighs. Opening the bottle, Bertie slowly drizzled some into the palm of his hand, then set the bottle down.

  After rubbing his hands together to warm the oil and release more of its scent, Bertie reached down to run his palms across Ichirou’s back and shoulders. Moving carefully, Bertie slid his hands lower, occasionally brushing across Ichirou’s buttocks, to soft moans of his name.

  Ichirou raised his head and looked over his shoulder, fixing Bertie with a look so sultry, Bertie almost lost control.

  “Make love to me, Bertie. Show me how to love, how to give and receive pleasure. Show me everything. Take me. I want you … inside me, now.”

  “Yes, my beloved.” Bertie doubted he could hold back much longer. His neglected erection had dripped a silvery pool of its need which glistened on Ichirou’s skin.

  With a deep breath, Bertie reached to spread his lover’s cheeks gently apart, grazing across the revealed opening with his thumb. Bertie trickled some of the oil directly onto the newly revealed skin and smiled at Ichirou’s throaty groan of his name.

  Bertie leaned over Ichirou, kissing and nipping, hoping to distract Ichirou as he pressed a single, well-oiled finger inside his lover’s body. The heat and tightness almost took Bertie’s breath away and he forced himself to focus on stretching and preparing Ichirou.

  Along with yet more kisses, soft murmurs of love and devotion accompanied Bertie pressing a second finger in beside the first. Bertie was relieved to feel Ichirou’s body relaxing, accepting the digits, and he began to move them back and forth, readying his lover to take him.

  “Please, precious one, I need to be inside you.”

 
; Ichirou groaned loudly, his own need spiraling out of control as he pushed back on Bertie’s fingers, wanting and needing more than they could provide.

  “Yes. Yes, now.”

  Bertie shifted his position, nudging Ichirou’s legs apart so he could kneel between them. He positioned the dripping head of his cock against his lover’s prepared entrance. Ichirou instinctively raised his hips higher, and Bertie squeezed hard at the base of his prick.

  Pushing firmly, Bertie edged forward, pressing inside slowly, the heat of his lover’s body almost searing in its intensity.

  “I love you, Ichirou. So very much.” Bertie murmured the words as he rubbed at Ichirou’s lower back.

  “And I love you. I will not break, Bertie-chan. I want everything you have. Please.”

  Bertie groaned aloud, gritting his teeth as Ichirou rocked back and forth, impaling himself on Bertie’s cock. The muscles in Bertie’s thighs burned and trembled with each passing second as he tried to hold still, to let Ichirou use him for his own pleasure.

  The darkened bedroom bore silent witness to Ichirou’s soft cry of ecstasy as Bertie finally buried himself completely. As Bertie held still, Ichirou clenched his muscles, tightening the hold on Bertie’s cock.

  Aware of Ichirou reaching for his own erection, Bertie moved faster. He timed his strokes to match his thrusts, knowing he couldn’t last long, and hoping that the dual sensations would drive Ichirou into spilling a second time.

  Both men moaned their pleasure, the sound mingling along with the scent of musk and the oil. At Ichirou’s continued pleas, Bertie slipped off the reins of restraint, and thrust harder and faster, driving deeper into his beloved.

  Hot pleasure built from low in Bertie’s groin, expanding outwards, enveloping him in a sensual haze of love and pleasure, heat and slick tightness. Bertie tried to keep stroking Ichirou, wanting to give as much pleasure as he received.

  A cry of Bertie’s name heralded Ichirou’s second release and his lover sank down into the bed. Bertie followed him as a miasma of ecstasy enfolded him. He couldn’t hold back any longer and moaned his lover’s name as he spilled, filling Ichirou with his living essence.