At first Desmond had just thought that the Bleeding Effect had finally gotten out of control and pushed him over the edge. When he saw his ancestor and Leonardo da Vinci standing in the middle of the hideout’s kitchen area, he just blinked and hoped silently to himself that while he’d clearly lost it, maybe they’d go away if he just ignored them. With that plan in mind, he walked straight past both men, made himself coffee, and walked back into the main room, ignoring their confused attempts at conversation and baffled expressions.
It wasn’t until they followed him into the main room and made Rebecca jump up and scream that he realized that he might not be totally cracked after all. And that they had a serious problem.
There was general chaos for a few minutes as everyone shouted at each other in different languages, weapons were drawn, and a paper cup was tossed across the room to bonk off of Ezio’s head. Things were seconds away from resulting in a murder when Desmond decided that he’d had enough and started shouting at everyone in Italian. Ezio calmed down after that, though he didn’t put away his sword or let Leonardo out from behind his protective stance, and the rest of the Assassins shut up as well.
Using Desmond as a translator, much to his annoyance, the group was able to establish that somehow Ezio had activated the Apple. He had been mulling over Minerva’s words while holding it, wondering about who the mysterious ‘Desmond’ could be, and the Apple must have responded to his thoughts. Leonardo had just been there at the time. When Desmond introduced himself, Ezio had given him a long look, before finally breaking out into a wide smile. He sheathed his blades, and then stepped forward to embrace Desmond warmly, calling him ‘brother’. Desmond returned the hug, oddly touched at the older Assassin’s easy acceptance.
Once introductions had been made the modern Assassins tried their best to explain the future to the two Italians, but Desmond had a feeling that both were a little lost. Admittedly, even though Leonardo was a genius and Ezio was no slouch himself, it was a bit much to expect them to understand computers when they hadn’t even mastered indoor plumbing yet. Still, they tried to understand all of the strange machines surrounding the sanctuary, nodding along to Desmond’s shaky explanations.
As he spoke, Desmond noticed something strange. For some reason Leonardo kept giving him thoughtful looks, like he was yet another unexplained piece of equipment that could be understood with enough study. Desmond was unused to such focus. It made him feel a bit nervous, so he did his best to avoid looking in Leonardo’s direction.
After the excitement and explanations had died down a little, Desmond was assigned to keeping an eye on the two time-travelers until they could figure out a way to get home. His first task was finding them a room to sleep in. Grumbling to himself in the various languages he’d picked up, Desmond gestured for them to follow him as he lead them through the ruins of the villa to find a suitable room that wasn’t too destroyed.
As he lead them through crumbling halls, past abandoned and damaged rooms and gaping windows, the sunset streaking everything in orange light, Desmond noticed the melancholy look Ezio was giving everything. He abruptly remembered that this had been the other Assassin’s home in the past. To see it in such a run-down state now must have been very difficult for him. Desmond suddenly felt like an inconsiderate jerk.
“Are you...okay?” he asked Ezio in Italian. The older Assassin jerked up, as if he had forgotten that anyone else was there, and gave Desmond a weak smile.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s just...strange to see Monteriggioni in such a state. Even at its worst, it never seemed this...empty.” His voice trailed off sadly as he looked out the windows to the empty remains of the village below. Desmond had experienced it often enough to know when someone was seeing ghosts.
Suddenly Desmond was very glad that Leonardo had somehow accompanied Ezio into the future. He tried to picture what the older Assassin must be going through and just couldn’t. At least there was one familiar face to comfort him. He turned to the artist, giving him a hopeful look. Leonardo would know how to make Ezio feel better.
However, Leonardo merely gave Ezio a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, before offering a suggestion. “Perhaps you should explore a bit mio amore,” he spoke softly, “see if there is anything of the past that still rests here. I’m sure you know many hidden spots what would have been untouched over the years. Maybe something remains?”
Ezio smiled wider, more honestly at Leonardo’s words. “Perhaps I should,” he agreed thoughtfully, turning to stare out through a window over the ruins of the village. “Though I would not want to leave our fine host if he would prefer we stay close.”
Desmond, distracted by the realization that Ezio and Leonardo were apparently...together, jolted when he realized Ezio meant him. “No, no!” he waved his arms just a little too frantically, making the two men stare at him strangely. “By all means, explore! Lord knows I do all the time. There’s plenty to see, if you don’t think it’s going to be too painful. I’m sure you can find your rooms after.”
“Sometimes the pain is worth it; helps me to focus,” Ezio intoned gravely, though for some reason he and Leonardo glanced at each other as he said it. There was no change to Ezio’s expression, but a small smile danced across Leonardo’s lips. “I will not be gone long, nor will I go far.”
“Take as much time as you need,” Desmond told him, trying to be sympathetic.
“Leonardo,” Ezio called out. The artist jumped to attention, smile gone. Ezio stared at him for a moment, before sighed heavily. “Try not to break anything,” he said mysteriously. Then, with a curt nod to them both, he leaped out the window and started dashing across the grounds as gracefully and sure-footed as a cat.
Desmond and Leonardo watched him leave for a while, and then almost as one turned back to each other. Desmond sort of wanted to ask the artist what Ezio had been talking about, but Leonardo was giving him that strange look again. His words died in his throat, and he felt the urge to swallow thickly.
“I believe we were on the way to our rooms?” Leonardo prompted when Desmond hadn’t moved yet.
“Wha? Oh! Yes, rooms, right,” Desmond stuttered, whirling on his feet and walking quickly onwards to hide his red face. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the way Leonardo was watching him made Desmond feel...warm.
It took them three tries to find a room that wasn’t too destroyed for Leonardo and Ezio to use. The bed frame itself was broken and in pieces, but the mattress was somehow still alright. Once Leonardo stepped inside to inspect everything, Desmond ducked out to get a few things, like sheets and toiletries. He didn’t think they had toothbrushes in renaissance Italy, but that was no reason to go without while they were here.
He brought his bundle back to Leonardo just in time to see the older man pulling down an old set of curtains. To his shock, instead of the fabric ripping, the entire bracket came down as well with a mighty crash. Leonardo gathered up the fabric and tossed it aside, eyeing the curtain rod critically.
“You know, you don’t need to use curtains. I brought you sheets,” Desmond spoke up, causing Leonardo to look up at him.
“Hmmm? Oh, no, I didn’t intend these to be used as sheets,” Leonardo laughed. “Tell me, what do you think is the strength of this fabric?” He grabbed a corner of the curtains and held them up for show.
Bewildered and not sure where this was going, Desmond shrugged but responded. “Well, the rod gave first, so probably pretty strong. Why?”
The look Leonardo gave him could only be described as predatory. Desmond fought the instinct to take a step backwards. He’d never thought that the gentle artist could be so intimidating based on Ezio’s memories. But now, he felt trapped under Leonardo’s gaze. Subconsciously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips. Leonardo’s eyes tracked the movement, then rose back to meet his own.
Never breaking eye contact, Leonardo began to tear up the curtain into strips. Desmond’s breath hitched at the casual show of strength. He’d never seen the artist like this. There had been no indication that he could be so...fascinating in the memories Desmond had experienced. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this new information. Leonardo continued to make strips out of the curtains, a secretive smile growing wider on his lips as Desmond still didn’t look away.
Suddenly feeling much too hot, Desmond forced himself out of his stupor. “Here, let me just get the bed set up,” he offered, turning away without waiting to hear Leonardo’s response. He tried to calm down as he tucked sheets around the mattress and laid a quilt over top. The toiletries and supplies he had left on the scarred and warped desk across the room as he set to making the bed.
When he was finished, he turned, only to find Leonardo standing right behind him. He startled back so hard he lost his balance, falling back onto the bed with a small cry and a whump.
“L-Leonardo!” Desmond yelped. “W-what are you - !”
“Hush,” Leonardo cut him off, pressing a finger to Desmond’s lips. Instantly Desmond’s mouth snapped shut. When he was sure Desmond was listening, Leonardo continued. “I noticed earlier. You are very tense. When you were interacting with the others, you seemed very defensive, sullen.” Leonardo gave him a considering look. “It reminded me of the way someone else I know can get.”
“Well, we are related,” Desmond pointed out, grateful that his voice stayed steady.
“This is true,” Leonardo nodded. Then, to Desmond’s shock, he crawled up onto the bed, straddling Desmond’s hips as casually as you’d believe. “Which means what works for him should work for you.”
“W-what? Wait, what are you doing?”
“When Ezio becomes very tense, stressed, he cannot perform as well as he desires,” Leonardo explained casually, as if he hadn’t just pinned Desmond to the bed, pressing their hips together. “His muscles do not respond properly, he becomes tired and irritable. So he comes to me, and I help him relax. Would you like me to help you as well?”
Desmond looked up at the other man for a moment, thinking about it. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what Leonardo was offering, even if he didn’t know the specifics. Part of him was worried about the logistics of having sex with a man that had lived and died centuries before he had even been born. A much larger part of him was telling him that it had been far too long since the last time he’d gotten laid. Besides, he had been rather tense lately, even Shaun had noticed and commented the other day, albeit very sarcastically. What could it hurt? He wasn’t going to become his own ancestor or anything. Or worse, have sex with his ancestor. It shouldn’t be that bad. With all this in mind, he hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.
Leonardo beamed at him proudly. “Very good! Now don’t worry, I will take good care of you!”
Desmond wouldn’t say it out loud, but he felt sort of relieved to hear that. It was about time someone else was in charge. He was sick of everything resting on him, depending on him finding the right information, searching through his memories. Letting someone else have control for once sounded fantastic to him.
He decided to prove his willingness by leaning up to press a kiss to Leonardo’s lips. Leonardo let him control the kiss for only a moment, and then he grabbed Desmond’s face, holding him still while he plunged his tongue into Desmond’s mouth. Desmond fell back onto the bed again, Leonardo following without breaking the kiss. They struggled against each other, tongues tangling and hands tugging at clothes, but Leonardo was clever and devious. His fingers snuck up under Desmond’s shirt, teasing at the waistband of his jeans, and Desmond’s mouth fell open with a groan, breaking the kiss. The arousal that had been pooling in his belly since he’d returned to the room to see Leonardo watching him suddenly flooded his body, leaving him hard and aching.
Leonardo instantly began to strip him. There was a small pause while Leonardo marveled over the zipper in his hoodie, but once Desmond made a soft noise of annoyance he focused back on the task at hand. Heat once again rose to Desmond’s cheeks as Leonardo took his sweet time removing each piece of Desmond’s clothes, his hoodie and shirt tossed over the remains of a chair next to the bed. Leonardo took advantage of Desmond’s shirtlessness to press kisses all across his ribs, chuckling when Desmond’s stomach jerked at the contact. Desmond helplessly clung to Leonardo’s shoulders as the kisses trailed lower and lower, his fingers getting tangled in Leonardo’s long hair.
His pants and boxers were removed with much less care than his shirt. Leonardo had a little trouble with the laces of Desmond’s shoes and his belt, ripping each piece away with a quiet focus until Desmond was left bare and gasping on the bed, Leonardo hovering over him fully clothed. They stayed like that for an endless moment, Leonardo studying Desmond’s naked flesh with such intensity that a small whimper escaped Desmond’s lips. He’d never felt so exposed in his life. He had no idea why Leonardo was different. Something in his eyes just made it seem like he could make out every little detail of Desmond’s body, and was committing it to memory.
Leonardo seemed to notice his discomfort, because he began shushing his whimpers softly, brushing his hands over Desmond’s thighs and pressing kisses to his cheeks. Desmond gasped as the lace on Leonardo’s sleeves dragged over his skin, nails scratching lightly and making him shiver. His eyes slipped shut, just giving in and letting Leonardo explore his body thoroughly.
He opened them again when Leonardo stepped away. He didn’t go far, just went to gather up a few strips of the ruined curtains, testing their strength once more between his hands and rubbing it over the sensitive skin of his wrists to test the feel. At once, Desmond understood what they were for. He stared at the fabric nervously as Leonardo chose a few pieces and turned back to the bed. To be honest, Desmond had never tried anything like this before, the whole being-tied-up thing. But strangely enough he was willing to try. Just this once. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as Leonardo approached with the fabric. Instead of waiting for Leonardo to ask, Desmond wordlessly offered up his wrists to be tied. The pleased look Leonardo gave him made him flush, his erection giving a little twitch.
There wasn’t much left of the headboard to secure Desmond too, so Leonardo lived up to his genius title and somehow managed to secure Desmond to the mattress itself by his arms. His legs were left free, thankfully. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with being completely bound just yet.
But when Leonardo began to tie a strip around his eyes, Desmond jerked back. “Wait,” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous instead of turned on. “Please. Not that.”
“Are you sure?” Leonardo asked gently, no judgement to his tone. “It will make the sensation more intense.”
“Yes, but...” Desmond wasn’t sure how to explain himself. How to tell Leonardo that he was afraid of what he’d see behind his closed eyelids? He was already having enough trouble with the Bleeding Effect with Ezio and Leonardo being physically there. Take away his ability to look around himself and confirm that he was in the present, not the past? He had no idea what would happen. “Please. Not this time.”
Fill: Steal All My Air [1/3]
At first Desmond had just thought that the Bleeding Effect had finally gotten out of control and pushed him over the edge. When he saw his ancestor and Leonardo da Vinci standing in the middle of the hideout’s kitchen area, he just blinked and hoped silently to himself that while he’d clearly lost it, maybe they’d go away if he just ignored them. With that plan in mind, he walked straight past both men, made himself coffee, and walked back into the main room, ignoring their confused attempts at conversation and baffled expressions.
It wasn’t until they followed him into the main room and made Rebecca jump up and scream that he realized that he might not be totally cracked after all. And that they had a serious problem.
There was general chaos for a few minutes as everyone shouted at each other in different languages, weapons were drawn, and a paper cup was tossed across the room to bonk off of Ezio’s head. Things were seconds away from resulting in a murder when Desmond decided that he’d had enough and started shouting at everyone in Italian. Ezio calmed down after that, though he didn’t put away his sword or let Leonardo out from behind his protective stance, and the rest of the Assassins shut up as well.
Using Desmond as a translator, much to his annoyance, the group was able to establish that somehow Ezio had activated the Apple. He had been mulling over Minerva’s words while holding it, wondering about who the mysterious ‘Desmond’ could be, and the Apple must have responded to his thoughts. Leonardo had just been there at the time. When Desmond introduced himself, Ezio had given him a long look, before finally breaking out into a wide smile. He sheathed his blades, and then stepped forward to embrace Desmond warmly, calling him ‘brother’. Desmond returned the hug, oddly touched at the older Assassin’s easy acceptance.
Once introductions had been made the modern Assassins tried their best to explain the future to the two Italians, but Desmond had a feeling that both were a little lost. Admittedly, even though Leonardo was a genius and Ezio was no slouch himself, it was a bit much to expect them to understand computers when they hadn’t even mastered indoor plumbing yet. Still, they tried to understand all of the strange machines surrounding the sanctuary, nodding along to Desmond’s shaky explanations.
As he spoke, Desmond noticed something strange. For some reason Leonardo kept giving him thoughtful looks, like he was yet another unexplained piece of equipment that could be understood with enough study. Desmond was unused to such focus. It made him feel a bit nervous, so he did his best to avoid looking in Leonardo’s direction.
After the excitement and explanations had died down a little, Desmond was assigned to keeping an eye on the two time-travelers until they could figure out a way to get home. His first task was finding them a room to sleep in. Grumbling to himself in the various languages he’d picked up, Desmond gestured for them to follow him as he lead them through the ruins of the villa to find a suitable room that wasn’t too destroyed.
As he lead them through crumbling halls, past abandoned and damaged rooms and gaping windows, the sunset streaking everything in orange light, Desmond noticed the melancholy look Ezio was giving everything. He abruptly remembered that this had been the other Assassin’s home in the past. To see it in such a run-down state now must have been very difficult for him. Desmond suddenly felt like an inconsiderate jerk.
“Are you...okay?” he asked Ezio in Italian. The older Assassin jerked up, as if he had forgotten that anyone else was there, and gave Desmond a weak smile.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s just...strange to see Monteriggioni in such a state. Even at its worst, it never seemed this...empty.” His voice trailed off sadly as he looked out the windows to the empty remains of the village below. Desmond had experienced it often enough to know when someone was seeing ghosts.
Suddenly Desmond was very glad that Leonardo had somehow accompanied Ezio into the future. He tried to picture what the older Assassin must be going through and just couldn’t. At least there was one familiar face to comfort him. He turned to the artist, giving him a hopeful look. Leonardo would know how to make Ezio feel better.
However, Leonardo merely gave Ezio a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, before offering a suggestion. “Perhaps you should explore a bit mio amore,” he spoke softly, “see if there is anything of the past that still rests here. I’m sure you know many hidden spots what would have been untouched over the years. Maybe something remains?”
Ezio smiled wider, more honestly at Leonardo’s words. “Perhaps I should,” he agreed thoughtfully, turning to stare out through a window over the ruins of the village. “Though I would not want to leave our fine host if he would prefer we stay close.”
Desmond, distracted by the realization that Ezio and Leonardo were apparently...together, jolted when he realized Ezio meant him. “No, no!” he waved his arms just a little too frantically, making the two men stare at him strangely. “By all means, explore! Lord knows I do all the time. There’s plenty to see, if you don’t think it’s going to be too painful. I’m sure you can find your rooms after.”
“Sometimes the pain is worth it; helps me to focus,” Ezio intoned gravely, though for some reason he and Leonardo glanced at each other as he said it. There was no change to Ezio’s expression, but a small smile danced across Leonardo’s lips. “I will not be gone long, nor will I go far.”
“Take as much time as you need,” Desmond told him, trying to be sympathetic.
“Leonardo,” Ezio called out. The artist jumped to attention, smile gone. Ezio stared at him for a moment, before sighed heavily. “Try not to break anything,” he said mysteriously. Then, with a curt nod to them both, he leaped out the window and started dashing across the grounds as gracefully and sure-footed as a cat.
Desmond and Leonardo watched him leave for a while, and then almost as one turned back to each other. Desmond sort of wanted to ask the artist what Ezio had been talking about, but Leonardo was giving him that strange look again. His words died in his throat, and he felt the urge to swallow thickly.
“I believe we were on the way to our rooms?” Leonardo prompted when Desmond hadn’t moved yet.
“Wha? Oh! Yes, rooms, right,” Desmond stuttered, whirling on his feet and walking quickly onwards to hide his red face. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the way Leonardo was watching him made Desmond feel...warm.
It took them three tries to find a room that wasn’t too destroyed for Leonardo and Ezio to use. The bed frame itself was broken and in pieces, but the mattress was somehow still alright. Once Leonardo stepped inside to inspect everything, Desmond ducked out to get a few things, like sheets and toiletries. He didn’t think they had toothbrushes in renaissance Italy, but that was no reason to go without while they were here.
He brought his bundle back to Leonardo just in time to see the older man pulling down an old set of curtains. To his shock, instead of the fabric ripping, the entire bracket came down as well with a mighty crash. Leonardo gathered up the fabric and tossed it aside, eyeing the curtain rod critically.
“You know, you don’t need to use curtains. I brought you sheets,” Desmond spoke up, causing Leonardo to look up at him.
“Hmmm? Oh, no, I didn’t intend these to be used as sheets,” Leonardo laughed. “Tell me, what do you think is the strength of this fabric?” He grabbed a corner of the curtains and held them up for show.
Bewildered and not sure where this was going, Desmond shrugged but responded. “Well, the rod gave first, so probably pretty strong. Why?”
The look Leonardo gave him could only be described as predatory. Desmond fought the instinct to take a step backwards. He’d never thought that the gentle artist could be so intimidating based on Ezio’s memories. But now, he felt trapped under Leonardo’s gaze. Subconsciously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips. Leonardo’s eyes tracked the movement, then rose back to meet his own.
Never breaking eye contact, Leonardo began to tear up the curtain into strips. Desmond’s breath hitched at the casual show of strength. He’d never seen the artist like this. There had been no indication that he could be so...fascinating in the memories Desmond had experienced. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this new information. Leonardo continued to make strips out of the curtains, a secretive smile growing wider on his lips as Desmond still didn’t look away.
Suddenly feeling much too hot, Desmond forced himself out of his stupor. “Here, let me just get the bed set up,” he offered, turning away without waiting to hear Leonardo’s response. He tried to calm down as he tucked sheets around the mattress and laid a quilt over top. The toiletries and supplies he had left on the scarred and warped desk across the room as he set to making the bed.
When he was finished, he turned, only to find Leonardo standing right behind him. He startled back so hard he lost his balance, falling back onto the bed with a small cry and a whump.
“L-Leonardo!” Desmond yelped. “W-what are you - !”
“Hush,” Leonardo cut him off, pressing a finger to Desmond’s lips. Instantly Desmond’s mouth snapped shut. When he was sure Desmond was listening, Leonardo continued. “I noticed earlier. You are very tense. When you were interacting with the others, you seemed very defensive, sullen.” Leonardo gave him a considering look. “It reminded me of the way someone else I know can get.”
“Well, we are related,” Desmond pointed out, grateful that his voice stayed steady.
“This is true,” Leonardo nodded. Then, to Desmond’s shock, he crawled up onto the bed, straddling Desmond’s hips as casually as you’d believe. “Which means what works for him should work for you.”
“W-what? Wait, what are you doing?”
“When Ezio becomes very tense, stressed, he cannot perform as well as he desires,” Leonardo explained casually, as if he hadn’t just pinned Desmond to the bed, pressing their hips together. “His muscles do not respond properly, he becomes tired and irritable. So he comes to me, and I help him relax. Would you like me to help you as well?”
Desmond looked up at the other man for a moment, thinking about it. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what Leonardo was offering, even if he didn’t know the specifics. Part of him was worried about the logistics of having sex with a man that had lived and died centuries before he had even been born. A much larger part of him was telling him that it had been far too long since the last time he’d gotten laid. Besides, he had been rather tense lately, even Shaun had noticed and commented the other day, albeit very sarcastically. What could it hurt? He wasn’t going to become his own ancestor or anything. Or worse, have sex with his ancestor. It shouldn’t be that bad. With all this in mind, he hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.
Leonardo beamed at him proudly. “Very good! Now don’t worry, I will take good care of you!”
Desmond wouldn’t say it out loud, but he felt sort of relieved to hear that. It was about time someone else was in charge. He was sick of everything resting on him, depending on him finding the right information, searching through his memories. Letting someone else have control for once sounded fantastic to him.
He decided to prove his willingness by leaning up to press a kiss to Leonardo’s lips. Leonardo let him control the kiss for only a moment, and then he grabbed Desmond’s face, holding him still while he plunged his tongue into Desmond’s mouth. Desmond fell back onto the bed again, Leonardo following without breaking the kiss. They struggled against each other, tongues tangling and hands tugging at clothes, but Leonardo was clever and devious. His fingers snuck up under Desmond’s shirt, teasing at the waistband of his jeans, and Desmond’s mouth fell open with a groan, breaking the kiss. The arousal that had been pooling in his belly since he’d returned to the room to see Leonardo watching him suddenly flooded his body, leaving him hard and aching.
Leonardo instantly began to strip him. There was a small pause while Leonardo marveled over the zipper in his hoodie, but once Desmond made a soft noise of annoyance he focused back on the task at hand. Heat once again rose to Desmond’s cheeks as Leonardo took his sweet time removing each piece of Desmond’s clothes, his hoodie and shirt tossed over the remains of a chair next to the bed. Leonardo took advantage of Desmond’s shirtlessness to press kisses all across his ribs, chuckling when Desmond’s stomach jerked at the contact. Desmond helplessly clung to Leonardo’s shoulders as the kisses trailed lower and lower, his fingers getting tangled in Leonardo’s long hair.
His pants and boxers were removed with much less care than his shirt. Leonardo had a little trouble with the laces of Desmond’s shoes and his belt, ripping each piece away with a quiet focus until Desmond was left bare and gasping on the bed, Leonardo hovering over him fully clothed. They stayed like that for an endless moment, Leonardo studying Desmond’s naked flesh with such intensity that a small whimper escaped Desmond’s lips. He’d never felt so exposed in his life. He had no idea why Leonardo was different. Something in his eyes just made it seem like he could make out every little detail of Desmond’s body, and was committing it to memory.
Leonardo seemed to notice his discomfort, because he began shushing his whimpers softly, brushing his hands over Desmond’s thighs and pressing kisses to his cheeks. Desmond gasped as the lace on Leonardo’s sleeves dragged over his skin, nails scratching lightly and making him shiver. His eyes slipped shut, just giving in and letting Leonardo explore his body thoroughly.
He opened them again when Leonardo stepped away. He didn’t go far, just went to gather up a few strips of the ruined curtains, testing their strength once more between his hands and rubbing it over the sensitive skin of his wrists to test the feel. At once, Desmond understood what they were for. He stared at the fabric nervously as Leonardo chose a few pieces and turned back to the bed. To be honest, Desmond had never tried anything like this before, the whole being-tied-up thing. But strangely enough he was willing to try. Just this once. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as Leonardo approached with the fabric. Instead of waiting for Leonardo to ask, Desmond wordlessly offered up his wrists to be tied. The pleased look Leonardo gave him made him flush, his erection giving a little twitch.
There wasn’t much left of the headboard to secure Desmond too, so Leonardo lived up to his genius title and somehow managed to secure Desmond to the mattress itself by his arms. His legs were left free, thankfully. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with being completely bound just yet.
But when Leonardo began to tie a strip around his eyes, Desmond jerked back. “Wait,” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous instead of turned on. “Please. Not that.”
“Are you sure?” Leonardo asked gently, no judgement to his tone. “It will make the sensation more intense.”
“Yes, but...” Desmond wasn’t sure how to explain himself. How to tell Leonardo that he was afraid of what he’d see behind his closed eyelids? He was already having enough trouble with the Bleeding Effect with Ezio and Leonardo being physically there. Take away his ability to look around himself and confirm that he was in the present, not the past? He had no idea what would happen. “Please. Not this time.”