Desmond's butt was freezing sitting on understuffed cushion on the villa's marble floors. He had a cramp in his left calf and he was fairly sure he had lost all sensation in his right arm since the pins and needles had left, but it was all worth it to maintain a nonchalant attitude while mostly naked and under Shaun's scrutinising gaze.
"You sure you want to keep playing?" Shaun asked, his gaze dropping to the board and then rising to Desmond once more. "I will, literally, be taking the hoodie from your back."
Desmond shrugged - thus proving he could still feel his right arm as pins and needles radiated up the flesh - and flicked a dice towards Shaun. "I've got three rounds in jail," he said, keeping his voice pitched low.
Shaun's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he snatched up the dice, throwing it into the centre of the board with some violence.
Desmond watched Shaun move around the board, paying out some money to council tax and spending an inordinate amount of time sorting his paper cash. Desmond could feel a flutter low in his gut, watching the stubbled cheek tense and twitch. He unzipped his hoodie slowly and tossed it towards Shaun's slack jawed face. "I'm buying my freedom," he announced, sitting butt naked on the floor of the villa, in the middle of a storm.
Shaun stuttered for a moment.
Desmond rose to his feet and stretched, standing on the balls of his feet and arching his back, clenching his fists and raising his arms far above his head, yawning.
"Desmond," Shaun squeaked.
"What?" He planted his hands on his hips and stared the blushing man down. "This was your suggestion."
"I suggested we stop playing," Shaun mumbled, squaring off the pile of community chest cards.
"So am I," Desmond said in a level voice. Shaun's head snapped around with an almost audible crack. Desmond extended his hand and curled his fingers in a beckoning motion. "Shall we . . . stop playing?" he asked, his calm voice almost breaking. He hoped he could blame that on the cold.
Shaun's hand closed around his and suddenly the man's eyes widened behind frameless spectacles. "Desmond, you're freezing," he said suddenly, snatching up the hoodie and flinging it around Desmond's shoulders.
"Hey," Desmond's protest was cut off short when Shaun wrapped his arms around Desmond's torso, rubbing the skin. He leaned down and pressed another kiss into Shaun's lips. This time, it was stronger, more insistent than the kiss he'd risked out in the snow.
"Hmm," Shaun said as they parted. "That was -" There was a click and a soft hum before the lights flickered on, revealing a distinct blueness to Desmond's toes and the goosebumps on both their skin.
"Shaun! Desmond!" Rebecca hollered, running down the stairs. "Power's back!"
Shaun leapt back as if electrified and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes, thank you, Rebecca," he drawled, "I think we were aware of it."
"Come on, Lucy's making hot chocolate," Rebecca said. "Get dressed." As she hurried back up the stairs, Shaun turned back to Desmond, clearing his throat and rubbing his hand through his hair.
Desmond stooped to pick up his jeans, unable to help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He pulled his clothes back on, trying to not to look at his would-be partner.
"Go direct to jail, do not pass go," he heard Shaun whisper as he passed.
Desmond almost thought he sounded . . . remorseful.
Do Not Pass Go (5/5)
"You sure you want to keep playing?" Shaun asked, his gaze dropping to the board and then rising to Desmond once more. "I will, literally, be taking the hoodie from your back."
Desmond shrugged - thus proving he could still feel his right arm as pins and needles radiated up the flesh - and flicked a dice towards Shaun. "I've got three rounds in jail," he said, keeping his voice pitched low.
Shaun's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he snatched up the dice, throwing it into the centre of the board with some violence.
Desmond watched Shaun move around the board, paying out some money to council tax and spending an inordinate amount of time sorting his paper cash. Desmond could feel a flutter low in his gut, watching the stubbled cheek tense and twitch. He unzipped his hoodie slowly and tossed it towards Shaun's slack jawed face. "I'm buying my freedom," he announced, sitting butt naked on the floor of the villa, in the middle of a storm.
Shaun stuttered for a moment.
Desmond rose to his feet and stretched, standing on the balls of his feet and arching his back, clenching his fists and raising his arms far above his head, yawning.
"Desmond," Shaun squeaked.
"What?" He planted his hands on his hips and stared the blushing man down. "This was your suggestion."
"I suggested we stop playing," Shaun mumbled, squaring off the pile of community chest cards.
"So am I," Desmond said in a level voice. Shaun's head snapped around with an almost audible crack. Desmond extended his hand and curled his fingers in a beckoning motion. "Shall we . . . stop playing?" he asked, his calm voice almost breaking. He hoped he could blame that on the cold.
Shaun's hand closed around his and suddenly the man's eyes widened behind frameless spectacles. "Desmond, you're freezing," he said suddenly, snatching up the hoodie and flinging it around Desmond's shoulders.
"Hey," Desmond's protest was cut off short when Shaun wrapped his arms around Desmond's torso, rubbing the skin. He leaned down and pressed another kiss into Shaun's lips. This time, it was stronger, more insistent than the kiss he'd risked out in the snow.
"Hmm," Shaun said as they parted. "That was -" There was a click and a soft hum before the lights flickered on, revealing a distinct blueness to Desmond's toes and the goosebumps on both their skin.
"Shaun! Desmond!" Rebecca hollered, running down the stairs. "Power's back!"
Shaun leapt back as if electrified and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes, thank you, Rebecca," he drawled, "I think we were aware of it."
"Come on, Lucy's making hot chocolate," Rebecca said. "Get dressed." As she hurried back up the stairs, Shaun turned back to Desmond, clearing his throat and rubbing his hand through his hair.
Desmond stooped to pick up his jeans, unable to help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He pulled his clothes back on, trying to not to look at his would-be partner.
"Go direct to jail, do not pass go," he heard Shaun whisper as he passed.
Desmond almost thought he sounded . . . remorseful.