asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.

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From this prompt:

http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=4247544#t4247544

Ezio returns to Ferrara after the events of the da Vinci Disappearance memories and fucks Lucrezia's brains out. 1506. Let's just pretend Cesare has escaped and is running around somewhere, and the Assassins are looking for him.

Because I tend to not finish my fills -_- I tried to wait until I had finished before starting to post, but I think I won't have any trouble finishing the story because it's all planned out. So here we go...

***

It was a warm night in Ferrara, and the air of the gardens at the Delizio di Belriguardo smelled of flowers and clipped greenery. Grunting softly with effort, Ezio Auditore jumped up to grip the stone outcrop of a small balcony on the eastern side of the Palazzo, and pulled himself over the wrought-iron railing.

“I knew you would be back, Assassino.” Lucrezia Borgia stood in her nightgown, watching him.

Ezio straightened, and looked at her. Lucrezia's long, fair hair was unbound and fell below her waist, still wavy from spending the day in a braid. Her face was bare, and the wisps of blond hair framing it were slightly damp, as though she had just washed. Her eyes were calculating and utterly unafraid.

“If you have come to rob me again,” she said, “I am afraid you will find the art on my husband's walls of little interest. He does not share your love of Leonardo da Vinci's work.”

“You know that is not why I have come,” said Ezio, brushing off his clothes. He pulled back his hood.

Lucrezia picked a twig from his cape and held it between her finger and thumb. “Climbing in the hedges, were we? Aren't you a little old to be sneaking through a girl's bedroom window?”

“For some things, Duchessa, one is never too old.” He watched her eyes, allowing the scarred side of his mouth to curve into a half-smile. She saw it and looked away, her face flushing, reminding him of how young she was. He laughed softly and took a step towards her, taking hold of her wrists in leather-gloved hands. “Have you decided whether or not to call your guards, Lucrezia?”

“No.” Lucrezia pulled away, and he let go. “But while I make up my mind, you may as well come in.” She turned and went into her room, leaving the doors open to the scent of the night. Her nightgown slid and clung around her hips and backside. Watching her walk, he was sure her hips had become fuller since the time he had held his blade to her throat at the Castel Sant'Angelo. He approved.

“You play upon my emotions, Assassino,” she said, lighting the candles in her chamber. Flickering light was cast over the room, illuminating tapestries, heavy, deep-red curtains and high vaulted ceilings. “But this time, I am not so easily fooled. I believe you have come to search for Cesare.”

“So you have heard of your brother's escape.”

“Of course.” She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. “But why would he come back to Italia? And why would you think I would harbor him, after what you saw?”

“That, I do not know,” Ezio said honestly. “But he is still your brother. And while he saw you as merely his sister, I believe your feelings for him are – different.”

“This is true,” she said. “And if you think that through seducing me, you could cause me to give him up to you – you are even more arrogant than I thought.” She stepped towards him and trailed a finger down the front of his armor. Her touch was light, and he felt nothing, but somehow that aroused him all the more powerfully. He felt the blood pound under his collarbone and excitement build in the pit of his stomach. Without thinking, he breathed out, hard. Lucrezia watched him closely. Her breasts were high and firm under the light fabric of her nightgown, nipples showing clearly in the candlelight. He brushed one, running the backs of his fingers over it, then rested his hands on her waist.

"Where is your husband, Duchessa?” he murmured, his voice low and tense with arousal.

“Not here, obviously,” she said, indicating the empty chamber. Her face became closed, and Ezio wondered if the Duca had gone to scout near Ravenna. He had overheard the guards discussing his alliance with the Pope.

“And Patrizio is dead,” she said, her face devoid of emotion. “But I expect you knew that already.”

“You seem very calm about this,” he said, “given that you said he was special to you.” Her expression did not change, so he dropped the point. “And what of the others, Lucrezia?”

“What others?” she snapped.

Ezio smiled faintly. “Why stop at two?”

“Ipocrita,” she said. “You judge me for my appetites, but the list of your conquests exceeds my own in every way, except the scrutiny of society. We are -"

"Nothing alike," he said, stepping in close to lay a gloved finger gently against her lips.

She turned her head aside, so that his finger traced her cheekbone. "So you think, Auditore. I know better.”

“Do you, now,” he said. He stroked her jawline, ran his thumb across the delicate line of her collarbone. She closed her eyes.

“I know that, like me, you seek pleasure when you cannot have love. Did you find Leonardo da Vinci safe, Assassino? You know that there are... strange discussions about the two of you, and stranger still about the Maestro and his 'assistant'. How did it feel, to rescue your friend, only to return him to his lover? Is that why you have come to me?”

“Do not speak of this, Lucrezia,” he said. His voice took on a warning growl, harsher than he had intended, and he felt ashamed of himself. But Lucrezia only smiled in satisfaction.

“You know nothing about me,” he told her, but they both knew that was untrue. Lucrezia was surprisingly astute. He could not help but think that, had she applied her brain to politics instead of petty jealousies, she could have been formidable in her own right.

He loomed ever closer towards her. She walked backwards, and he followed, invading her space in subtle threat. Her back touched the wall but he did not stop. He took her hands, pinned them gently against the wall above her head, and began to kiss her. He kept his eyes open as he pushed his tongue between her lips. He reached for the hem of her nightgown and lifted it, slipping his hand underneath. Through the leather of his glove, he felt the sleek warm skin of her inner thigh.

She gasped in pleasure, kissing him back. Her shoulders writhed against the wall. "No," she moaned into his mouth. “Ezio... Stop -”

He dropped his hands to her hips.

"As you wish, Duchessa," he said softly, and bowed. He brushed a last kiss to her cheekbone, scraping her smooth pale cheek with his beard. Then he let her go.

Rage glittered in her blue eyes – she was ready to slap him. “Bastardo”.

"You said to stop, Lucrezia. I have no desire to force you." That was not strictly true. The kiss had made him hard as steel. But only a fool would not have seen this coming. A fool, or a young man; and perhaps they were the same thing.

He walked towards the balcony, hands ready to draw the hood of his cloak back up.

“Wait,” said Lucrezia. There was a note of vulnerability in her voice that told him he had won. “I - meant only that we should move to my bed.” With his back still to her, Ezio smirked and let go of his hood.

Ezio pushed her back until she tumbled onto the bed. He stood between her spread thighs as he stripped, dropping cloak, armor, cape, breeches, until he stood over her naked. She lay back, watching him and breathing hard. He urged her backwards on the bed, climbed on after her.

The bed was immense and smelled sweetly of Lucrezia, of her hair and perfume; and, faintly, of another man. The Duca. The thought of taking a woman in her husband's bed made his heart race. He had not done it in years.

He lifted her nightgown over her waist and pushed her thighs apart. Already she smelled of arousal, the first hint of slick sex glistening between her lips. He groaned and lowered his head to taste her. Lucrezia cried out and her hips rose, back arched, shoulders writhing on the bed. He held her hips to keep her still.

The scent and taste of her combined as he kissed and tongued her, slow and lingering. She shuddered with sensation at the scrape of his beard against her thighs and delicate sex. He traced the tip of his tongue along her lips, then held her tighter, pinning her firmly to the bed, and flicked the tiny sensitive bud. She screamed and twisted in his grip, then grabbed for his hair and pulled it.

“None of that,” he said gently, and trapped her wrists against the bed as he bent to tease her again with lips and tongue. God, she was so wet; the moisture from her sex sliding down between her buttocks, onto the sheets. She pushed herself against his mouth, so that his face was snug against her, his beard scratching the delicate skin.

She sobbed with pleasure. Her hips began to jolt and spasm, and he drew back, knowing she would climax if he didn't.

“Ezio – please,” she begged.

“Shh,” he said. “Not so soon. We have all night.”

“Stronzo”, she whispered. “I cannot wait all night.” She reached to finger herself, and he took her hand away, laughing.

Avoiding the centre of her pleasure he dipped long fingers inside her, pushing them slowly in and out. As he did so, he lay alongside her to kiss her mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue and the hair around his mouth. Her eyes were shut, her cheeks flushed, and she was breathing heavily. She kissed him back, all of her slyness gone, replaced with desperate need.

Ezio felt a thrill of power. In the bedchamber, bringing a woman to this state with his lips and tongue was his favoured act. He could bring or deny release. After so many years, he knew he was good. His skill was mostly in self-restraint - the ability to watch a woman writhe, and not take her. To drive her to begging in breathless gasps, and not take her. To taste and smell her body's need, and and not take her; until he was ready.

He straddled her, drew her nightgown over her head and tossed it aside. She was spread out beneath him. He trailed his fingers down over her breasts and belly and thighs, nudged her legs further apart, and prepared to enter her.

By now he was so hard it hurt. Taking his cock in his hand he rubbed the head against her sex, smearing her own wetness around her entrance and over her flushed sensitive bud. He leaned into her, pushing her open with the thick width of his cock, and she moaned in delight as he sank inside.

He lay flush on top of her and kissed her as he moved his hips slowly back and forth, dipping his cock deeper with each stroke.

“Ezio, Ezio,” she whispered. Wrapping her legs around his waist she drew him into her.

Being inside her felt like bliss. He moaned as he fucked her, rubbing his cock against her sweet spot, feeling her body's response, drawing them both closer to climax. Lucrezia began to shudder and he slowed. She moved her hips to urge him.

"Do it, inside me, I don't care," she begged, tossing her head.

"I do." The man that he had been fifteen years ago would most likely have done it, but Ezio did not need that sort of trouble. “I'm sorry, Lucrezia.” He pulled out, slowly, his arms trembling with control.

"Figlio di puttana, I swear I'll kill you -"

"Shh,” he murmured, and kissed her. “It's all right. Get on your knees, Lucrezia."

He set one hand on her hip to urge her to roll over. With the other, he slipped his fingers inside her, into slick wet heat.

"How dare you speak to me so," she said.

Ezio only smiled; he knew that he could speak to her however he pleased, now, and she would writhe and beg just the same. As he predicted, she knelt for him, thighs spread and back arched.

He had a spectacular view of her, slender back, smooth bottom, long hair brushing her breasts. His long fingers moved inside her, slow and skilled, keeping her on the edge of release. A drop of wetness slid down the inside of her thigh and he licked the trail back up to her entrance, tonguing and teasing.

He flicked the tip of his tongue up just brushing the sensitive ring of her ass, so quickly it could have been an accident, and felt her shudder. He slid his tongue back to her lips, then in a little while, he did it again. This time she gasped.

“What are you - ohh --!”

He kissed her flush on her ass, circled the hole with his tongue, listening to her cries of surprise and delight, edged with shame. Had none of her lovers done this to her? He moaned in disbelief and shoved with his tongue against the tight opening, following with a finger, and she screamed.

As a youth, Ezio had sworn to Leonardo da Vinci when they first became lovers that he would rather die than let another man penetrate him. That Leonardo might prefer to bear the shame in exchange for pleasure, but that an Auditore would not; and besides, he would derive no pleasure from it anyway so what was the sense of trying it?

It had not taken the engineer long to persuade him otherwise with gentle kisses, skilled fingers and tongue, and a bottle of oil. Ezio had begged, that first time, and the second, and many times afterwards.

Tonight, Ezio had no oil, but he did not need it. He slid two fingers inside Lucrezia's sex, coating them with her slick juice. Then he probed her ass as he tongued her. He edged a fingertip inside, opened her, added another. He stretched her as he wriggled his tongue. With his other hand, he fingered her, smearing her own sex and coaxing her to ever more desperate cries.

”Bastardo,” she gasped. She rocked back against his fingers and tongue as he teased her ass. Then, finally - "Do it. Ezio, please -"

To make his cock slippery enough to take her, he slid it back inside her pussy. She groaned in pleasure and despair at once. “What are you doing now?”

He stroked her back, rocking his hips. “Trust me, Lucrezia,” he said, then eased out and pushed the slick head of his cock against her ass.

“Please, Ezio -”

He circled the tight opening, eased forward, parting it a little.

“Like this?” he whispered.

“Si -”

“Si?”

“Do it -”

The sound she made as he stretched her open with his cock, sinking inside her, had a different quality, intense and taut with pleasure-pain and the strangeness of this sensation. He knew how it felt, and took her slowly, his hand soothing on her back. He closed his eyes, curved his body over hers. She pushed back against him, moaning.

To be inside her like this was so deeply intimate, with her gasps half-pain, half-ecstasy, that he could almost forget what she was – Borgia. His enemy. Her body quivered as he drew out slightly, and pushed back inside. He moaned. So tight, so hot. He reached around to caress her sex. He slid his fingers inside her, circled his thumb over the tiny, hard centre of her pleasure.

With his cock and fingers inside her, he fucked her, slowing when her cries contained more pain than pleasure, letting her relax; then harder as she urged him with her hips. He curled the fingers inside her, touching and stretching, felt her body twist and writhe under his. She began to shudder, rocking and crying out, her climax almost upon her.

Ezio could hold himself back no longer, and with one arm around her middle, the other still fingering her, he thrust hard, pulling her tightly against him, his thighs slapping against the backs of hers, his belly against her back as he came.

Gradually their motions slowed and they collapsed together. He fell across her back, dimly worrying that he was too heavy to lie on top of her slight frame, but she did not try to move him.

"Ezio... never in my life.. my god," she said, still gasping for breath. “Who taught you to do this?” He laughed and buried his face in her hair.

“That, I won't tell you,” he said. “But rest a while, and I will show you some other things I know.”

***

Ezio lost count of how many times they made love, but dawn found him dozing. He became aware of Lucrezia trying to rouse him, shaking his shoulder.

“Ezio... Ezio!” she hissed.

Dimly he heard the clatter of horses outside.

“Cesare has arrived. He will come to me. You must go – quickly!”

“What? You said he was not here,” he protested, not wanting to move.

Words echoed amongst the faint stirrings of first light. “Allow me to take your horse, Duca.”

Surely this was Alfonso, returning earlier than expected – but the title could apply to Cesare just as easily, and either way Ezio was in dire trouble if he did not move.

“My master Alfonso has prepared rooms for you on the south side of the Palazzo...”

A reply, unintelligible, but unmistakeably the voice of Cesare Borgia.

Merda!

Ezio rolled out of bed, pulled on his breeches and strapped his hidden blade to his wrist. As he felt for his shirt on the floor in the dim light, he wondered whether to stay and fight. Could he take on Cesare Borgia? The man was many years younger than he was, but Ezio was surely the better fighter. He had experience and self-discipline on his side, at the very least – and he felt it unlikely that Cesare could match his skill with a blade.

Still, he was not prepared. Cesare would have Alfonso's guards ready at his call. Ezio was dazed and sleepy, his limbs still heavy from sex. And such a thing was not for Lucrezia to witness. It should not take place in her own home. He had to run.

"This was a trap,” he said to Lucrezia as he dressed. “You planned for your brother to catch me here, and kill me.”

But why had she woken him? Cesare would surely have killed him if she had let him sleep. His contempt for the Assassins' way of stealth and subterfuge was only for show – given the chance, he would not hesitate to slay a man as he slept.

“Yes,” she said, sitting up in bed. “That is what I planned.” Her bare breasts were pale, her nipples still flushed.

Ezio looked out of the window, judging the distance to the ground. God, he was a fool! Sex was still his weakness, no matter what he tried to tell himself. Here he was, roused at dawn, forced to leap from a woman's bedroom window to avoid his certain death. In – how long was it now? Thirty years? How little he had changed. Idiota!

“I do not hold it against you, Lucrezia,” he said honestly. “Perhaps, in your position, I would have done the same.”

She nodded. “I will not apologise for what I am,” she said. “But if you wish to keep your life – this time – go now.”

“Lucrezia,” he said, and crossed back to the bed to take her hands. “Cesare will be jealous, when he comes to you. He might hurt you.” They might be enemies, but Lucrezia was still a woman, and Ezio could not stand to think of Cesare laying the force of his rage on her because of something he had done.

“No, Ezio.” She stood up, naked, still holding his hands. “I will not tell him. He will not know.”

He looked her up and down, and knew otherwise. Dishevelled blond hair, flushed skin, dazed eyes. Between her thighs, the remains of his seed glistened, still sticky. The smell of sex clung to her body like perfume.

Cupping her face Ezio tipped her head back and kissed her, sliding his tongue between her lips. With a finger, he reached between her thighs for a final caress. His finger slid between lips still slick and swollen. Lucrezia gasped as he found her sweet spot and flicked it gently. He withdrew his finger, placed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucked her own essence and swallowed.

“Forgive me, Lucrezia,” he said, his voice low and hoarse with renewed need. “But only a eunuch or a virgin would not know. And Cesare is neither.”

“Cesare will not hurt me, Ezio,” she said softly. “He knows me. I have done worse. Now go.”

“Very well. Farewell, Lucrezia.” He kissed her hand.

He stood on the balcony railing, poised to leap. His cape fluttered around him in the warm wind.

Lucrezia's chamber door opened, and Cesare Borgia looked straight through the room to the balcony. He saw Ezio instantly.

“You!”

Ezio smiled. “Until next time, Duchessa,” he said, and bowed to Lucrezia.

Cesare looked at Lucrezia, naked, then back at Ezio. “Maldito bastardo, I'll kill you.”

Ezio jumped, soaring down, flipping over to land on his back in the pile of leaves. He rolled to his feet, and began to run.

*****

I'm sorry for anything that makes no sense, guys!!! I probably fucked up the titles, timeline and where it was even physically possible for Cesare to be, among other stuff, but there you go. I just wanted it to be Cesare that found them. I tried to get the details right where I could :) but I didn't have time to look into stuff more thoroughly

Prompt and fills 1-14 + 2 extra fills: here (http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?view=5134840#t5134840)

Direct to first parts of fill: here (http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=4248312#t4248312)

Just a place-holder for the other parts when I publish them so that I have a place to publish them to and so I can link this comment to the first thread!

http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=3547128#t3547128

Summary: AU; Desmond likes British accents and Shaun needs to get laid. So the girls set them up on a blind date.

There will be smut at the end.

-

Between two part time jobs and school, Becca barely found time for a social life. Of course, just because she was lacking the time and sleep, that did not mean she didn't make time for the occasional party and hang out. She had no problems when it came to having fun, despite the lack of free time she had. What was a problem though, was usually her friends. Shaun, her room mate/friend, would rather stay at home and work on school projects (no wonder he was single) than to party and try to find himself some ass. God that man needed to get laid... it was becoming a nightmare living with him.

And then, there was Lucy. Smart, boring, pretty little Lucy, who was the biggest workaholic Becca had ever had the displeasure to know. The only good thing about Lucy was that at least she did try to hang out with friends every once in a while, although it still was pretty rare, and that was when Becca would use her magic (whine) to get the blond woman to finally stop working and studying, and go out with her.

And so here she was, waiting for Lucy to get out of work. The blonde said she could only be out for an hour or two, since she needed to work on some paper for a class, but Becca was going to work her magic on that woman and get her to stay longer. However, as much as she was looking forward to hanging with Lucy, the main reason Becca was so excited to see Lucy today, was that the woman was bringing a friend she knew from high school.

Becca had seen this guy once, when she came over to drop off something at Lucy's apartment, and damn! She had left in a hurry, thinking she was interrupting Lucy from getting some action (God knows the woman needs it!), and the next time she had seen her, Becca had demanded to know who he was. Lucy had waved it off, saying that this Desmond guy was a friend from high school and nothing more. Becca had not believed it for a second, but if Lucy was not interested in the sex god that this man was, well... Becca was NOT going to let this opportunity go to waste.

“Becca!”

Looking up, she saw Lucy waving and running towards her, a huge smile on her face. See? This was why she liked Lucy, she tried to hard to be so matured, but deep down she still was that crazy girl Becca had met in college.

“Hey Luce!” Becca grinned and stood up to give her friend a hug. “Man, its been so long since I've seen you!”

“Becca, you saw me last week.”

“Exactly! We used to hang out every day girl, what happened?” Becca play punched Lucy on the shoulder as the two sat down. “You were so much fun, but now you're like an old lady.”

“Well,” she paused to push her chair forward and place her purse on the table. “Some of us like to do well in class.”

“Hey, I do well in class too! Still that's no excuse, I'm your best friend!... speaking of friends,” She paused to look around. “Where's your hot friend?”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Desmond? He has an assignment due tomorrow, so...”

“Aw man!” Becca whined, and slump back on her chair. “I wanted to meet this hottie! You said he was single, so I was kinda hoping I could put on the moves and get myself some.”

The blonde woman laughed as the waiter came up to them to take their order. Becca placed her order, confused at Lucy's reaction, while the other woman tried to get herself together. She managed to place her order before another laughing fit took over her, at this point managing to make Becca a little angry. Eventually, Lucy was able to calm down, and smiled at her annoyed friend.

“Well, Becca, unless you suddenly grow a penis or become a man, I doubt Desmond will be interested.”

“What!?” Becca squeaked, making Lucy laugh once again.

“There's a reason why I never dated him. Don't you think I tried? Jesus, Desmond is.. I used to invite him to my house all the time, you know? Dress up and hope he would make a move, but then one day, I noticed how he kept staring at my older brother.”

“No way...” Becca seemed to be out of her shock, and pretty interested in the idea of Lucy's brother and Desmond. This woman...

“They never dated, Becca.”

“Shit.” She sounded pretty disappointed at that. Seriously? She went from wanting to date Desmond, to fantasizing about him and Lucy's brother? She did NOT need that mental image in her head.“So I can't get with Desmond, and you ruin my fantasy of him with your brother, who's hot by the way-”

“And married.”

“-but damn! And here I was hoping to convince Desmond that we are soul mates, and how we were meant to be...”

-

After having dinner together, Becca had managed to convince Lucy to stick around a little longer, and ended up going to a bar. Despite the disappointment of Desmond being gay, Lucy knew that Becca would not be satisfied until she knew everything Lucy knew about Desmond.

“So what type of guys does Desmond like?”

Sipping on her beer, Lucy debated whether or not she should tell Becca anything, it really was none of her business, but she had never been good at fighting her sad puppy look. Shit, sorry Desmond.

“Um, I guess he... hm, I don't think he has a type when it comes to physical stuff. He's kinda loose-”

“Dammit, why is he gay!?” Becca interrupted, banging her head on the table. “I'm loose, he's loose, we could have had soooo much fun-”

“Becca, please.” Lucy ducked her head, blushing as she noticed that Becca's outburst had caught the attention of the people around them, she whispered harshly. “Not so loud.” When the only response she got was mumbling, her tone became angry. “I can't understand you when you mumble.”

With a sniff, Becca lifted her head and looked up. Her face was flushed due to all the beer she had drank already. Lucy should have stopped her. Now here they were with Becca declaring to the entire bar that she was loose, and now there were some creepers looking at Becca with interest. This was the reason why she never partied with Becca... this always happened.

“I said,” Becca finally continued, “What turns him on?”

Lucy sighed at the question. She should have known Becca would ask these questions... especially now that she had some alcohol in her system.

“Seriously, Becca?”

“Come on!” Lucy's eye roll did nothing to ruin Becca's curiosity to find out more about Desmond. “I can't get with the guy, at least give me material to dream with!”

“Too much information.” she groaned at the other woman's begging stare. Again, sorry Desmond... “I guess he... likes, um... accents? There was this guy from England in his digital printing class, all he ever did was talk about him, and how sexy his accent was. And one time, when we were drinking, he kept saying how he was going to blow him during class, that sort of stuff.”

Becca grinned, and sat back on the chair. Taking a big gulp of her beer, she pointed a finger at Lucy before continuing.

“See? That wasn't so hard. Hm, British accents? Not my thing.”

“You don't like British accents? Really?” Lucy was honestly shocked. She figured a guy crazy girl like Becca would have all the bases covered. “I would think that...”

“Listen, after living with Shaun for almost 3 years, I can honestly say that the accent gets old, and in the way of an actual personality. Just hearing the accent come up, I think of Shaun and his bitch ass attitude...”

“He's good looking.”

“Yes well, even if I wanted to tap that, which I really don't, thank you very much, he cares nothing for the female gender, if you know what I mean... although, it was pretty hot that first year we lived together. He would bring in his boyfriend to the house and, well, you know... damn it was hot, I wish.... Lucy?”

Becca paused when she caught Lucy's expression. She looked a little shocked, but her eyes looked full of mischief, something Becca missed about their college days together. The blond woman suddenly grinned at her.

“Shaun's... gay? Really? Becca!” Lucy was pretty scary when she was excited.

“What?”

“Don't you see? We have this guy who goes nuts over British men, and this British guy who needs to have sex before he kills you...” Lucy's grin widen. “See where I'm going with this?”

Becca's confused face slowly morphed into a smirk when she finally understood, and leaned on the table, now only a few inches away from Lucy's face. She chuckled.

“I see...well, if it gets Shaun to stop being such a little whiny bitch, if only for a day or two...”

“Well then.” Lucy raised her beer up. “Let's play matchmaker.”

-

“No.”

“But Shaun!”

“No, Becca.”

She growled in frustration, watching Shaun type away at his laptop. The man had been working on some history project when she finally made it home (at 3 am), and wasted no time in setting the plan in motion. She hard forgotten that Shaun was a stubborn asshole.

“Shaun, this guy is so fucking hot. Usually this level of hotness would be way out of your league, but he likes accents! Your accent! Just play that card and you might get yourself some hot piece of ass!”

The man sighed and glared at her, then continued to ignore her as he worked on his paper. He really needed to get this done. Becca growled and snapped shut his laptop, and before he could yell at her or anything, she snatched it away from him, holding it to her chest.

“Shaun, you fucking need sex in your life! The sexual frustration is affection not only you, but me and every one else around you! If you actually care about your friends, you would work on getting some!”

“And what, pray tell Becca, makes you think I'm sexually frustrated?”

“Your piss off attitude!” Becca made a jump backwards when Shaun seemed to make a move to try and take his laptop back. It failed. “Shaun, come on, you need to get laid! I'm trying to help you, man. Don't lie and tell me you aren't frustrated, you're not exactly quiet when you jerk off-”

“Becca!” Shaun yelled, blushing. Heh, Shaun blushing? Well that was new.

“Heh, come on, don't be embarrassed Hastings, it's okay-”

“Bloody hell woman...” He groaned and sat back on the couch. At least it looked like he was going to give Becca a chance to talk to him. Good, that was good. Maybe he would change his mind.

“Just go on this date. What's the worst it could happen? You fuck it up, there's no sex, and you never see him again.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Shaun sighed and stood up. Becca had to fight down the grin. She had won.

“If I say yes, will you give me my laptop back? I really need to finish that paper.”

She grinned as she shoved back the laptop towards Shaun, who caught it with a grunt. Besides getting Shaun a date, she was also very excited about beating Shaun for once. It was very satisfying.

-
“Hmmm, 'ello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“...Lucy? Oh yeah you did... what time is it?”

“Noon. What time did you go to bed?”

“Hmmm, when I got back from work so, you know, really late.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Hooking up with boys again?”

She could almost see Desmond smile.

“Not this time. So, I'm sure you didn't call me to know about my conquests for the night, so spill.”

“What would you say to a blind date?”

“Blind date? Wait, like, setting me up?”

“Who else? Come on, you'll like him.” When Desmond didn't say anything, Lucy quickly added, “He's British.”

That got a response.

“...is he cute?”

“Cute, Desmond? I would never call Shaun that, he would kill me. But he's good looking, if that's what you mean.”

Desmond chuckled.

“British you say? Lucy,” he paused to laugh. “You know me long enough to know my answer. Well, if you say he's hot than how I can say no? But seriously, he better not be a creeper.”

Somehow, she was able to hold in the squeal of happiness.

Shaun was nervous. Becca had spent the week talking about this Desmond guy, saying how sexy he was and how it was so unfair that the guy was gay, all this other bullshit he did not care about. But after hearing about the man the entire week, Shaun was becoming worried about he would measure up to Desmond. While Shaun wasn't a bad looking guy, he felt like he was being set up with someone way out of his league. Fuck, even Becca had said that! And despite his 'I don't care attitude', Shaun did care. Shit, maybe Becca was overrating over this guy's looks. She did that a lot.

Groaning, he crossed his arms and looked at his watch. Desmond was 10 minutes late. Maybe he wouldn't show up. Shit, he got stood up! Of course he did, why would the model worthy guy want to go on a date with a history major-

“Are you Shaun?”

Somehow he managed to not jump in surprise and keep cool as he turned around.

“I am.”And then he had to fight down the blush that he could feel rising. Oh man. “Are you Desmond?” Fuck.

“Yeah,” Desmond smiled at him, and fuck it was a nice smile... “Nice to meet you.”

-

To say that Desmond was gorgeous was an understatement. How Shaun was managing to act so cool and calm, he didn't know, but he was and Desmond seemed oblivious to the other man's inner turmoil. Walking next to him, made Shaun feel a little better, and that was due to the fact that was taller then Desmond, not by much, but that small detail made him feel a little better, as stupid as it sounded. Of course, that was the only thing to feel good about, Desmond looked like he worked out on a daily basis, while the most exercise Shaun got was walking around his college campus. Desmond was tanned and ethnic, and that made him exotic. And Shaun? Well he was pale and.. British?

“So Lucy's friends with your room mate?”

He needed to stop leering at Desmond, but it was hard not to stare at those full, pouty lips, and that scar, fuck scars should not be sexy-

“Yeah, but I also had a class with Lucy, 'History of the Middle East' I believe.”

Desmond nodded as they walked into the restaurant. Shaun hadn't been on a date for so long, he wasn't sure what type of restaurant would be a good choice for a first date, and in the end, he caved in and asked Becca for help. He was surprised to find that she didn't make fun of him or anything of the sort, but instead was quite helpful. So he picked a nice place that wasn't too fancy, but was definitely better than a regular restaurant. Desmond didn't seem to mind once they arrived, in fact, he looked pretty excited, so Shaun took that as a sign that this was okay.

“Are you done with school?” Desmond asked after the waiter had left.

“Working on my masters now. You?”

“Well,” Desmond leaned on his arms resting on the table, head tilting down to look at the menu on the table, shit he looked so cute like that- “I'm a little behind. I ran away from home when I was... sixteen? So I had to fend for myself and that just made everything hard. I got my GED , and started going to community college, to figure out what to do, right? Well, I took a photography class for fun, and ended up really liking it, so... I'm working on doing that now.”

“Photographer, huh? You don't seem like an art student at all... you look like a jock or a frat boy.” The moment he said it, Shaun wished he could take it back. He was trying to woo Desmond, not insult him-

Desmond laughed at the comment, and shook his head. Instead of acknowledging what Shaun had said, Desmond continued with his story.

“I guess you could say that. I dunno, after I ran away, I started to hang out with really bad people. I mean, my home life was shit too, and I don't regret running away, but still. Lost track of what was really important for a while...” he paused looking away. “What I wanted was a physical reminder of what I had, so I started to take pictures and put them up around my apartment. I want to remember where I can from, what made me into the person I am today, right? It's my own history, and while it isn't important to anyone else, it's important to me.” Desmond paused, as if he realized that he was speaking with Shaun. He seemed embarrassed. “Sorry for ranting, I know, it's a little weird-”

“No, not at all.” Shaun could feel his smirk becoming a smile. “I actually understand exactly how you feel.”

-

The last time Desmond went on an actual date with someone he saw as a potential boyfriend, hell, that had to be about a year ago, and that relationship went to shit fast. But here he was on a date in a nice place, with a great, smart guy who, while he made some back handed comments to some of the things Desmond said, found him to be charming in his own way. Besides, Desmond didn't want a push over, he wanted someone who didn't take anyone's crap, and did include his own.

Also, he was British. God, he could listen to Shaun talk all day... and he wore glasses. Lucy didn't now about his thing for guys with glasses, and fuck, she had no idea what she had done. Throughout dinner, Desmond had decided that he liked Shaun, and he would love to go out with him again, maybe try to pursue a relationship later on... but, he couldn't deny the fact that Shaun was hot, and Desmond was not know for holding back.

“-so I ended up dropping the class. The bloody bastard... worst professor ever.” Shaun sighed and leaned back n the chair. “Bastard didn't know how to teach anyway.”

Desmond grinned and laughed.

“I know the feeling, man. My design teacher was a bitch.”

“Crazy college professors thinking they're better than us, because of a piece of paper....” The smirk/smile he gave was enough to make him light headed.

He really liked Shaun.

-

After the restaurant, they went out for a walk. Both agreed that nothing good was playing at the movie theater, and neither were much into clubbing and dancing. They decided that the night was nice and cool, and a walk around the park sounded pretty good.

Both men were surprised on how much in common they actually had, despite their different personalities. Desmond was more of a laid back person who wanted to relax, Shaun worked hard and was serious about everything he did. But despite that, they had quite a bit in common, more than their belief that history was important, or their dislike for college professors... and they got along.

Shaun would be lying if he said he had not been expecting to have sex tonight, but now he didn't want that, at least not tonight anyway. If he was planning on taking Desmond out on another date, sleeping with him on their first date wouldn't be sending a good signal at all.

After walking around the park twice, they sat down on a bench. Desmond sat right next to Shaun and leaned on him a little, grabbing his hand and intertwined their fingers together. Shaun turned his head towards Desmond and rested his head on top of the other man's head, and took a deep breath. Desmond smelled nice.

“It's late.”

“Yeah...”

“Shaun?” He felt Desmond turn his head up to try to look at him. “Hey, um...”

“Spit it out.”

The other man laughed and cuddled up closer towards Shaun.

“Do you... want to go to my place? I mean, just to talk or something.”

Shaun could feel his heart pounding in his chest so hard, Desmond had to feel it, but he could feel Desmond shaking. It was a little reassuring to know both of them were nervous.

“Alright.”

-

Desmond's apartment was small but nice, it showed that he cared about cleaning. That was another point for Desmond. There was a rather big TV in the middle of the room, and a couch that while it did not look nice, it looked comfy. The was a small hallway leading away from the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, Shaun figured that's where Desmond's room was. He wondered if he would be seeing that tonight. What caught his attention, however, was the mini bar at the corner of the room.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“If you mean alcohol, then yes.”

Desmond laughed and walked towards the mini bar.

“Anything in particular? I can make anything.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrow at that.

“I work at a bar.” Desmond said as he pulled a bottle or something, and mixed it with something else. The ease that he showed as he handled the bottles and how professional he was about it, was actually impressive. Another plus for Desmond. “So what do you want?”

“Hm, what did you make yourself?”

“If you want some, I can't tell you.” The challenge in his eyes was obvious, and Shaun was not about to back out.

“Alright then, I'll have whatever you're having.”

"Isn't there a rule about not taking strange drinks from dates?"

"Unless you're trying to rape me, I think I'll be okay."

The look that Desmond gave Shaun went straight to his dick, and had to work hard to control his breathing as Desmond walked towards him, with the drink in hand.

"I wouldn't do that, but if you want to rape me well," Desmond paused as he passed his drink to Shaun, making sure their fingers touched. "You have my consent. After all, you can't rape the willing, right?" He finished with a wink.

Despite himself, Shaun found himself smiling.

"I guess not."

oh my godddd this is amazing.

DGAKLSHDF;LKASJDF

oh my lawd. this was fantastical and amazing and such.

MY BODY IS READY....for the rest of this fic. XD So, uh, I'll just be...you know, camping out here. Until it's done. No pressure!

<3 <3 <3

Holy hotness, Batman! This was a great idea and amazingly well executed. Please do write more Ezio/Lucrezia, author!anon.

Oh my god.... a fill!? I had totally given up on this! Writeranon, I cannot wait for you to finish. Also, I love you.

Please, more! ;A;

Original thread: http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=4494328#t4494328

Have an abridged version of the prompt-

"Pets" (slaves) are common in the world and Leo and Malik are people who buys them and then let them go. Cue Leo finding three brothers who are pets, Altair, Ezio and Desmond, he wants to buy them, can't, and goes to Malik to try and make up the difference. By the time he goes to get them they're gone.

Some time later he finds Ezio all fucked up, buys him and fixes him up. Learns how he got like this, enter Altair through some way and learn that Desmond is still with the bastards that fucked Ezio up. Ezio and Altair go rescue Desmond who's all sorts of hurt. Cue major h/c (and revenge on whoever bought Desmond.)

Got it, okay!

Leo had trouble with the following week just keeping everything strait in his life which was suddenly being upended and thrown out. Sure his life had changed when he’d first bought Ezio, in ways he could never explain properly, but that had been almost four months ago and now he couldn’t even imagine his house without Ezio and his brothers. They were a part of his household, and in some way a part of his crazy extended family that involved all the pets he’d ever bought or cared for and freed. He always grew attached to the pets he bought even if he knew they’d all leave eventually, but he always kept in touch with them except for a few that just fell off the map. But this was the first time he was purposefully saying goodbye with the express intention of never seeing them again, and he knew he never would.

As soon as he’d been able he’d called Malik. He hadn’t yelled, he’d just guilted Malik into feeling terrible for keeping that from him. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should listen to Altair’s advice, but he just couldn’t. Other than that though he heard little from his friend and he knew it was because he was preparing with the other movers.

Gilberto was over often and he and Altair talked constantly, getting everything in order and figuring out how things were going to go. Gilberto was just a liaison though and Leo knew that eventually the movers would come back and when they left the Rifters would with them. Still some part of him detested the movers and Malik because of what they were going to do. The thief told him that they’d need some clothing for the journey, ones suitable for hot days and cold nights. Leo had no idea what sort that was though because the weather was always temperate and about the same temperature all year in the capital. Ezio expressed the fact that he knew what sort of clothing was needed so he’d dragged Ezio out with him to find some.

It was strangely entertaining actually.

“You act like you’ve never been in a department store,” Leo told him.

“You act as if I have,” Ezio said purposefully trying to flatten his accent into something more similar to Leo’s. It was a terrible, terrible, accent.

“You’ve been here five years,” Leo pointed out as Ezio rapidly flipped through a dozen shirts.

“I was normally not allowed out of the house,” Ezio said lazily and Leo winced, of course, he should have thought of that. “Though once someone tried to use Altair as a prize fighter… it was a very successful venture until Altair broke our master’s teeth,” he snickered.

Leo stared at him, “Why would he do that?”

“He tried to sell Des back to a kennel,” Ezio said moving with perfect fluidity through the men’s section, towering over everyone else there and looking so out of place because of his height. Most people turned away from him as if afraid to meet his gaze. “Also,” he said stopping again and looking at another rack of clothing with seemingly little interest, “stores like this do not exist where I live,” he spoke in a softer tone now, “Everything is— what is the word? Tailored, I think?” he frowned, “Nothing so mass produced and flimsy as this,” he flicked the clothes away. “Are there specialty stores we could go to?” he asked changing subjects abruptly.

“Yes, what sort of specialty?” he asked dragging him towards the exit.

Ezio looked thoughtful and played with the necklace he’d taken to wearing. All three of them were still adjusting to life without a collar: Ezio had found a necklace amid a collection of things Leo didn’t look at to often, Des wore a scarf, and Altair wore nothing but at least twice had scratched his skin on his neck raw before Des (of all people) had put a scarf on him and it had stayed. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they got used to it but it didn’t make it any less amusing to see them adjusting to it. “Camping gear,” he finally said in a decided voice, his accent coming through so terribly that Leo winced when he said the word ‘camping’.

“I know a place,” Leo said nodding thinking he had a better understanding of what Ezio wanted than what he knew how to properly express. Five years or not in a strange country with formal training on top of it Leo knew that it was never easy to learn a different language and there was no way you could know all the words a native speaker would.

That’s what found them at a special boutique a bit later. It was a chic shop actually and full of teenagers who lived off their parents’ money and rode around on mopeds. The clothing here was expensive but extremely good quality and made from old world fabrics from over a century ago. The fabric was rather corse sometimes but it seemed to be what Ezio had meant. The workers and patrons alike also stared at Ezio unlike the people in the department store. It was out of the corner of their eyes though and never obvious. He knew Ezio was aware of it but preferred to ignore it as he looked through the clothing. This time he seemed pleased by it.

Of course Ezio had little concept of cash, he even confessed as much but Leo told him not to worry about it. Antonio had told him very clearly that whatever Leo had to buy for them he’d pay back in full once he was in possession of Des’ portrait. Leo couldn’t even imagine having that much money to do that, sure he wasn’t poor, and could afford sometimes insanely priced items, but to promise that, he couldn’t image it. It still felt almost painful to hand over the cash to pay for the clothes though once Ezio had finished finding what he and his brothers’ needed. He could have just bought a pet with how much the clothes cost for one of them and Leo didn’t know how people could afford such a life style.

“Ezio,” Leo said as they were heading back, Ezio was carrying the bags and didn’t seem at all bothered by it even though they weren’t exactly light. Ezio just hummed. “What are you going to do once you’re home?”

Ezio got that thoughtful look on his face before grinning, “Eat.”

“Excuse me?” Leo blinked at him.

“Traditional food,” he explained still mirthful, “It was hard to adjust to the diet you people here eat when we first got here, lots of fat and sugar and grain. We got sick a lot. I’m looking forward to someone cooking me food I grew up on.”

“Like what?”

“I couldn’t even tell you, it’s been a long time,” Ezio frowned though didn’t exactly look upset.

“Okay, well besides eating,” he pressed as they stopped at Leo’s car and he unlocked the doors and trunk, which Ezio threw the bags into.

Ezio didn’t respond till he was sitting, “Finish my training,” he said settling back. “I was on the fast track when I left, like my brothers, but now,” he sighed, “So much ground to make up. Altair too.”

“I thought he was a full warrior already,” Leo prodded and pulled out into the early afternoon traffic.

“He is. But—

“But?” Leo prompted.

Ezio stared out the window at first, looking distant, then he turned back around. “For our class the greatest honor is to become a-” he searched for a word to substitute for one in his native tongue. “I don’t even know what you would call it actually,” he said thoughtfully.

“Explain it than, I’m sure I could come up with one,” Leo said as they waited at a red light.

“Once someone is skilled enough, or has enough rank they’re permitted to take… feathers,” he saw Leo’s confusion. “Erm- targets? We’re given them and sent to other countries, one feather, one life.”

“You kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They endanger us. We kill them so they do not come and attack us, cause panic and disorder. What do you call that?”

“I would call them terrorists,” Leo said.

“You call movers terrorists,” Ezio said, “Also that light is green,” he nodded and Leo started, he hadn’t been paying attention, before quickly stepping on the gas. “We seek to only preserve our way of life, which others, especially you people, seem very intent on destroying.”

“Then perhaps a better word is hit man? They are contracted to kill people. Sometimes someone from another country is killed like that or rarely one of our own,” he frowned.

“If it is this country than it is us,” Ezio said and before Leo could ask he was moving on, “The other honor is to become a guard of the prophets. Only those who have taken a certain number of feathers and proven their skill can be one of them.”

“What’s so special about it? Wouldn’t guard work be easy?”

“It’s an honor,” was all Ezio said, “Without the prophets much of our civilization would collapse. To be the guardians of them is something we all strive for.”

“Even you?”

“Yes. Altair and… our brother were on their way to being ‘hit men’. But then we were brought here.”

“Can he still be one?”

“Of course. He has his wings, and after surviving so long in hostile territory and able to retain his skill, I wouldn’t doubt he’d have trouble getting such rank.”

Leo frowned but said nothing, instead mulling what Ezio had just said over in his head. It hadn’t really occurred to him he supposed that when the Rifters returned home they’d go back to doing what Rifters did, or more, what the media portrayed Rifters doing, which was killing. The idea of Ezio killing someone made him uncomfortable, though he knew the young man had before, especially the night they’d brought Des home and he’d been covered in blood that wasn’t his. For some reason he was fine with the idea that Altair killed people, he had the attitude for it, cold, stoic, almost like a machine at times, but not Ezio.

“What about Des?” Leo asked after that long silence, they were over half way back to Leo’s place now.

“If he can, he’ll finally get his training. I don’t… really know what they’ll do with him. His class requires so much trust, and he has so little of that,” Ezio frowned. “It is yet to be determined,” he finally said in a deciding voice.

“He won’t have to kill anyone will he?”

“No, he doesn’t have the training, it is practically to late to even start. He’s to old for warrior training now even if he was in the class.”

“That’s good,” Leo said before he could stop himself, “I can’t picture Des doing such a thing.”

“Can you picture me?” Leo glanced at him though also tried to keep his eyes on the road.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he said truthfully, “I don’t want to offend you.”

Ezio didn’t reply at first then he snorted with a little smirk, “You’re smarter than you look,” he told him and Leo didn’t quite know what to make of that.

—

Leo was surprised at the speed in which finally, at last, the movers decided now would be the time to go. It had been less than a month since they’d first arrived at Leo’s house and now Gilberto had told them the day before that they’d be arriving the next day. It was practically surreal. He was also surprised at how much it would hurt to say goodbye, though none of the Rifters had even seemed bothered by it. That made sense he supposed since they were all wanted to go home.

He’d been working when Francesco came and got him, saying Mr. Malik was here. He’d almost forgotten Malik since he had not seen the man in such a long time it seemed. He followed Francesco to the living room where Malik was sitting, his fingers steepled in front of him looking pensive.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Leo tried to be relaxed and cheerful as he sat opposite Malik at the coffee table where he always used to play Checkers with Salai. That had felt like a life time ago.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy, as you can guess,” Malik said apologetically. “I just—” he rubbed his face. He in truth looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes his mouth worn and tired.

“Would you like some coffee?” Leo asked.

“Ah, sure,” Malik said as if surprised Leo would offer him something, no doubt he thought Leo was still angry with him about lying. Leo however wasn’t nearly that petty. He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen where he could hear people moving around in there.

“Salai?” he called as he got near and he heard an awkward squawk that was defiantly Salai followed by someone laughing. His brows furrowed as he entered the kitchen to see Salai with his head down on the counter, face buried in his hands and Des standing next to him laughing at him. “Uhm, what’s going on in here?” he asked and Salai peered up at him from his hands his face practically the same shade as his hair. “Salai?” he rose his brows but the red head just shook his head. Well this was strange. “Is everything all right?”

“Just fine,” Des said. “Did you want something?”

“Ah, yes,” Leo said slowly still not knowing what to make of this. He had noticed the two young men seemed to get along well but sometimes stuff like this happened where Leo would some upon Salai totally unable to function. Leo had a very acute and probably correct guess that it had everything to do with the youngest Rifter too, he just didn’t know why. “Malik is visiting.”

“He is?” Des asked excitedly.

“Yes, but please Des,” Leo held up a hand, “I want to speak with him alone,” Des pouted but nodded. “Also he looks tired,” and finally Salai looked up, having seeming regained control of all of his functions. “Coffee perhaps?” he asked the red head. Salai nodded.

‘And you go away,’ he waved at Des who just grinned. Leo still didn’t know when or how Des had learned sign language since Leo had never taught him and there was no way Salai could have taught him properly in which he’d understand some of the thing’s he’d seen Salai tell Des (often long complicated things) but still Des knew. He just chalked it up as another mystery of the Rifters and especially their so called prophets, that’s all he could explain it with at any rate. Des did leave and Salai turned to Leo still looking a bit flustered but under control, ‘I’ll make coffee,’ and then he turned away totally ignoring him.

Shaking his head he returned to Malik who was leaning back on one of the couches, “So,” Leo said sitting, “You haven’t slept since when?”

Malik smirked ruefully, “Three days… I think,” he made a face, “I think. I lost track,” he admitted, “So much to do,” he sighed and sank into the couch.

“Will everything work out?” Leo asked unable to help but be a bit anxious.

“I hope,” Malik said, “I will admit that a lot could go wrong. Getting out of the capital is no problem since they look like freeman, but the border,” he shook his head, “I’ve never tried to get someone across the border.”

“You said it could be done though,” Leo said.

“Yeah,” Malik bobbed his head wearily, “Night is worried about the border patrol though.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Two trained warrior class Rifters, that’s why,” he said without even seeming sorry. “Altair was right when he said it is not us who should be afraid, but the patrol. If anything happens I know they can handle it.”

“You seem oftly sure.”

“You’ve seen them fight,” Malik stated, “So have I. I trust them to do what needs to be done should the situation arises even if that includes killing.”

“You seem very at ease with them killing our countrymen Malik,” Leo frowned.

“Our countrymen have killed plenty of them, I see nothing wrong with being allowed to defend one’s self. Besides, we both know why they’re here, our countrymen killed their entire family and kidnapped them and made them slaves for five years.”

“When you put it like that…” Leo had to admit he found it hard to argue despite his dislike of violence. Before he said more Salai came in with a mug.

“Ah, thank you Salai,” Malik said when the red head handed it over, “It’s black right?”

“And very strong,” Leo translated for for Salai’s signs since Malik didn’t understand signing any more than he did the Rifter’s language. Salai left after Leo assured him he didn’t want any. “So why are you here Malik?” he asked.

“Well,” he took an awkward sip, “I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know what will happen and I won’t be able to tomorrow because of anonymity.”

“You’re not actually thinking you could die? Please don’t tell me you’re really thinking that!”

“It is always a possibility in my line of work,” Malik said, “Or I could get captured.”

“But… when you say goodbye I get worried,” Leo frowned. Malik didn’t reply, he just drank more coffee. “You have that look,” he continued, “You’re not telling me something,” he accused.

“I don’t know what look you’re referring to,” Malik said curiously over the lip of his mug.

“That one you get when you’re lying to me,” Leo snapped, “And obviously lying like when you tried to tell me you hate children. Tell me,” he implored.

Malik didn’t speak at first, he was obviously thinking of his reply and if he could avoid the truth. “I’m thinking of asking if I can stay with them instead of coming back here,” he said putting the half empty mug on the coffee table. The silence in the room was practically numbing as Leo stared at him, shock plain as day on his face.

“What? Why?” he finally said.

Malik sucked in his lips, “I… have a brother Leo.”

“You told me, you said he died.”

“I know, but he isn’t dead.”

“Well what does this have to do with the Rift?”

Malik couldn’t look at him when he spoke but he didn’t doubt the truth in his words either, “My parents were going to make him a pet. I knew people, they took him to the Rift.”

“Than he probably is dead Malik-

“Altair told me he’s alive,” Malik cut in, the words practically leaping off his tongue. “And if he is… well, he’s the only family I have.”

“So you’d give up your entire life to see someone who probably doesn’t remember you? Who got raised by Rifters and to him you’d be ‘one of them’,” that got a wince from him, “That’s so stupid!”

Malik was looking at his shoes, “Look, I don’t even know if I will or not,” he sighed, “I haven’t asked them yet.”

“And why would they take you along?” Leo was being harsh because he didn’t want to lose Malik. It was bad enough that he’d never see Ezio and his brothers again, but Malik as well? That was too much to ask for and for him to not try and fight it.

“I have my belief,” Malik said.

“What about me then? Just going leave me all alone? I’ll become a recluse without you around.”

Malik grinned smugly, “I doubt it,” he said. “But that’s why I came here; to say goodbye, for whatever may or may not happen,” he pushed off his knees and stood so that Leo quickly scrambled to his feet. “I need to get home and finish preparing myself and get some sleep,” he said. Leo was just frowning. “I’ll see you tomorrow though Leo,” he said and abruptly hugged him tightly. Leo hugged him back and Malik left. Leo didn’t know what to do with himself once he was gone.

—

The sky was strangely poignant when Malik and the others arrived at Leo’s house the next day. It was still fairly early in the morning though the sky promised to be heavy with thick, low hanging, clouds and a watery sun. They had one car, a van, something that was easy to lose in any sort of traffic and didn’t draw attention to itself by being too big. There were a few small packs in the back as well as some other, empty, bags that would hold rations. It would only take two days or so to reach the closest they could get to the border by car, the rest of the way they’d have to walk. It would take a week to actually reach the Rift which was the most obvious dividing line between the two countries.

Parker waited in the van, he was the first on on driving duty, while Malik and the others went to collect their ‘cargo’, as they were called by movers. He knew the other three personally, even their real names but he tried not to think of them while on the job. For the next week they were Night, Parker, and Pseudonym and he was King. He couldn’t remember what Altair and Ezio were calling themselves though, but they were strange tangled words that sounded more than a little off to his ears. That didn’t matter to much though.

Night knocked on the front door and glanced down the street. The place was quiet though and except for someone headed off to work no one was about. The door was answered by Salai who stared at them with wide eyes, he obviously wasn’t expecting them but then Leo appeared behind him. “Hello,” he said and gently shooed Salai away before welcoming them in. The brothers were sitting on one of the couches, Des between the other two.

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

FILL: Comfort [1/?] Spoilers for da Vinci Disappearance DLC

FILL: Comfort [2/?]

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FILL: Comfort [4/?]

FILL: Comfort [5/?]

FILL: Comfort [6/6]

Place-holder - Shaun is King [parts 15+]

Fill: Blind Date (AU; Shaun/Desmond) [1/?]

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Blind Date [6/?]

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Re: Blind Date [6/?]

Re: FILL: Comfort [6/6]

OP

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