Content Warning Jack and the Crane
<< Continued from Lovers of Lavender >>

Content Warning: Sexual content.

The stars were bright against a crisp, somewhat clear sky. The Yorkshire factories had stopped their daily belch of smog, but it never quite dissipated.


His eyes skittered to Crane, and he squeezed his hand with a half-shrug.

Probably a one-night thing, but he felt bad admitting that under that look.

“Are there handcuffs?” he said instead.
Elijah squeezed the warm hand when he looked upon him and felt shy. He was always a bit of a timid man but this was more. He was giddy and he loved and hated it. He blushed at the words looking up at him in surprise.

"W-well I have some.. but what did you want to do with them?" Perhaps he still had more to learn. He went up to the door to his own home and unlocked it. His calico came up to say hello but paused at the stranger. Oh this made him feel more embarrassed as if a cat could judge him.

"Come in..." though he knew he didn't need to say it. The fact that Jack didn't answer his question made it clear it was but he was happy he didn't try to lie and act like it was more. "C-can I get you anything?" That question was just a reflex upon people in his home and he realized it was silly to say.
“You’ll just have to find out,” he said, bumping his hip against Crane’s, “won’t you?”

The cat was unexpected, though the judgmental look from said cat hardly was.

“Hola, gato,” he said lackadaisically, holding his hand down to the cat in case the calico was determined to do strange cat rubbing rituals.

Or a bite. Might as well let it get its opinion heard before he started manhandling the man of the … house? Station?

Gerónimo smiled and tugged Crane toward him by both his hands, placing them against his chest.

“You can get me undressed.”
The hip bump had Elijah blush and nod slightly.

The cat sniffed at the strange man's hand before dismissing the both of them for a perch on a bookshelf.

The request, or was it a command? had the constable stare at him a moment. He nodded quietly and stared hard at the man as he fumbled with removing his shirt. Trying to unbutton was very tricky with gloves, he hadn't attempted it before but was not about to take them off. He wanted to do more but at the same time was terrified of doing anything besides what Jack said as he didn't want to ruin the evening.
Jack slow-blinked at him, though said nothing. Was he that dirty? He had snuck a wash in the theater, and only a couple of people had caught him streaking! He wasn’t that ripe, was he?

Maybe gloves were a kink. Maybe he liked the clothes on better.

He took hold of Crane’s tie and gave a light yank downward with an amused look.
Elijah looked surprised as he was brought down. Realization came and he fell to his knees and looked up towards him. This was his big moment, what he did next would change his life forever. He blushed and ran a gloved hand up his leg, smiling nervously before he stared at Jack's trousers. He wanted to make it great for this strange man but he honestly had so little ideas on what he would find erotic.

He brushed his palm over feeling for what he hoped was the man's arousal and felt a wave of heat rise up his spine as he leaned forward to nuzzle into the fabric as he began to open so that he could pull down and reveal what he had hidden away.
There was something about watching Crane’s gloved, clean hands fumble fruitlessly with his pants. Something that brought heat to Gerónimo’s cheeks, like that time he’d been five and split his trousers in the crow’s nest.

Ah, right. Embarrassment. He’d forgotten what that felt like.

“Let’s, uh, take this to the bed,” he interrupted with a stage smile.
Everything was spiraling. His attempts were met with other suggestions after obvious failing. He was quickly making this more of a comedy if it wasn't so pathetic. It was frustrating in more ways than one and the realization that it would never change hit him hard.

Elijah stood and collapsed onto the sofa putting his face in his hands. "Forget it. I'm making a fool of myself. I don't want to ruin your night. I don't know what the hell I'm doing.. and I can't even undress you because of these ridiculous gloves. I can't take them off because the only thing more repulsive then being an embarrassment is scars.."

He felt like he would start to cry but he wouldn't in Jacks presence as that is the only thing to make this worse. "If you hurry you can probably get the tall pianist. just..please forget this even happened."
That cat was definitely judging Gerónimo now. He cast a sheepish look toward the bookshelf before taking a seat next to Crane and putting his arm about his shoulders.

“Scars?” he said, mostly to himself.

Whilst Crane urged him on to the tall pianist (which he did consider, but he doubted he’d get back in time), Gerónimo took his arm back and bent to take off his left shoe. Peeling off the sock, he stretched his toes and prodded a pale, two inch line raised against his skin.

Then, with a devil-may-care smile, he stood and unbuckled his pants with his bare-from-the-start hands. Letting them drop to his knees with one boot still awkwardly on, he hiked up the right leg of his drawers since it was faster than fussing with the buttons.

Across his right thigh was a faded but half hand-sized pucker of skin, and some dark little spots criss-crossed from each other on opposite sides of it.

“I won,” he said rather boyishly. “Did you?”
Elijah would admit he was surprised the man didn't leave. There was no deep emotional connection between the two, they had just met. But he eyed him being careful not to stare then looked up and smiled weakly.

"I can't guarantee you've won yet..." Slowly he slid off the gloves and held out his hands for display, first palms up before turning them over. From just above his wrists and downward his skin became an unnatural pink and was not smooth but layered with a spider pattern of paler skin that in some places faded and in others became more complex with webbing upon wedding in design.

Elijah stood and slipped off his coat before his fingers started to unbutton his shirt. He looked at the man only briefly with a little chuckle as now he was able to display his competency with buttons as he made quick work of the row. At first nothing was visible though he did get to show off he wasn't quite just skin and bones as he might have appeared but did have some muscle on his stretched frame from hard work. He bowed before the man as the same sort of skin showed upon the back of his neck up to the slightly raised hairline on the back of his neck and down almost dipping between his shoulder blades and touched upon his shoulders but not far and did not curl towards the front of his body.

"What do you think?" he was a little nervous that it was too much and was already reaching for his shirt to put it back on.
“C’mon,” he purred, throwing an arm about his shoulders. “This isn’t a carnival game – what if we both win?”

He let him go and stretched his arms across the back of the sofa, legs splayed as he watched him.

He stared at his hands unbuttoning far more intently than he had at just the gloves off, grinning wolfishly.

“Hey hey hey –!” he protested, swatting Crane’s hand with a shake of his head. “I think you need to keep that off and keep going.”

Jack bent to undo his other boot, cheek brushing against Crane’s still-clad thigh in the motion.
Elijah couldn't stop the huge smile on his face. Even Sal had been momentarily shocked though she'd recovered quick , being such a dear friend. He released the shirt with a bright blush and as he began to undo the belt he felt his cheek and looked down. 

Unable to resist, he ran his fingers through that thick, dark luxurious hair and grinned more releasing him just as quickly after lightly guiding his head to the side so he could slip down his pants without awkwardly hitting Jack in the face with his belt. He stepped out of the pants and his shoes with ease and sat beside the man on the sofa to slip off his socks more slowly. The less he had, the more he slowed. The only thing left had him hesitant but excited as he looked towards Jack. 

"I would say we both definitely win..."
“You’re blushing,” Jack said with a grin, and squeezed Crane’s knee.

Then, he was on the floor and sliding between Crane’s knees. Jack was practiced and deft with removing his drawers, though that dexterity did not seem to translate into how to hold his teeth.


Come morning – sometime in the midnight blue of birds-only hours – Jack had other pressing curiosities to attend to. Like if there were any valuables...

Dressed once more, he carefully eased a dresser drawer open...
As soon as he left the room he had company. The cat trailed after him then jumped upon the small dresser. The drawer was stubborn, warped by time it rubbed against the sides before revealing it's treasure.

It was a stationary drawer, full of pens, a couple of inkwells, paper of all sizes and types , and the bottom had some lost buttons and small coins scattered about .

A creak on wood and a low yawn came from behind. A very drowsy and dressed Elijah leaned against the door frame with his arms hugging himself for warmth. He pointed a gloved hand to the drawer. "If you dig around enough there might be s pounds worth. Sorry, constables don't make much .money.."
It was routine. Pure, rote routine. Fuck the guy, take the money – go. It was extra rich because this fellow was The Law – and he’d like to see how far The Law could go after having just broken a life-ruining one last night. Not even that calico cat could ruin this delightful moment.

A single creak on wood, however, did.

Jack whipped around, a hand dropping to his pocket and his other palm resting in a seemingly lackadaisical fashion on the edge of the dresser.

“Just wanted to see if you’d break out the handcuffs,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Too late for a round two?”

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