For a few seconds, nothing happened and the silent needle of dread started to push itself into Connor's side. What if his father would just laugh and push him away and mock him in the way that always made Connor snarl and want nothing more than to punch that smug smile, the voice which promised nothing and everything at once would finally be muted and he could go on with his life, could forget this ever happened, could forget that he was doing this with his father--
“Your... effort is charming, Connor. Unpolished and completely ridiculous, coming from you but perhaps that is why I find it so delightful.”
Fingers were making their way through Connor's hair before stopping at his back and carefully kneading, massaging the tense skin there.
The words had not been gentle, had not been meant to be a soothing balm for the anxiety and yet they had pulled the needle out and discarded it to side, ready to be used whenever it would please Haytham.
But the simple acceptance of Connor's words made the Native breathe out through his nose, shoulders slumping slightly before he narrowed his eyes at the bulge in Haytham's pants. It was time to stop moping and move on to more pressing matters, a situation Connor had happily thrown himself into. And, if he was very honest with himself, very eagerly so.
With the fingers exerting control and comfort against his head, Connor returned to nuzzling his father's penis through his pants, mouthing against it before parting his lips slightly wider and angling his side to the head to press his open mouth against it. Without further ado, he started sucking lightly, eyes darting up to catch the stumble in Haytham's cool facade, in time to see the nostrils flare and his father suddenly holding very, very still. He clearly hadn't expected that.
If Connor's mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied, he would have smirked. Instead, he let his eyes flutter closed and sucked harder, pressing his tongue against clothed skin. It was intoxicating, knowing his father's erection was just beneath his mouth, his father was letting himself slip up, was allowing himself to be this vulnerable. Haytham technically earned very little by letting his son do this to him but the knowledge that he considered it worth it made Connor's stomach do a funny little flip-flop before the heat pooled in. He could feel his face growing hotter, feel the sweat begin to gather at his neck and his father's chuckle indicated that he had noticed it, too.
With a growl, Connor pulled back and started to work on the laces of Haytham's breeches. To his annoyance, he found his fingers too clumsy, too shaky to undo the laughably easy knot and a noise of frustrating escaped him. Stupid guards and their stupid poison.
Above him, Haytham tilted his head to the side and watched in amusement.
That bastard.
Fed up with his unsteady fingers, Connor decided to make short work of the laces and tugged at them until they tore. When he looked up at his father to see the amusement vanish and be replaced by irritation at the prospect of having to either buy a new pair of pants or new laces.
Served him right.
With renewed vigor, Connor yanked at the breeches, pulling them down just enough to reveal hot, red flesh surrounded by dark curls.
The picture suddenly reminded Connor that he had very little idea what he was actually doing. Yes, Haytham had done this to him briefly but all Connor could actually remember was heat and wetness and a tongue lapping at his skin and after that, things had gotten hazy. Very hazy, in fact.
This wasn't the time of looking at his father for guidance, Connor had been the one to offer this, he was the one who had sounded so sure of himself and admitting to not knowing what to do what simply ridiculous. And he was in no mood to swallow his pride.
Besides, he knew enough to keep Haytham happy until he could figure out how to do this. If his father's breathing was any indication, he was doing well enough for now.
Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath before raising his hands and letting them roam, letting them explore his father's erection, listening to the hitches and muffled, barely controlled sighs to slowly learn the spots his father appreciated the most.
Then his lips started to follow his hands, starting at the base, first just pressing, then his tongue darted out to lick at the skin, the taste salty and weird but not unpleasant. He didn't bother looking back up to see if he was doing decently enough, the fingers suddenly digging into the back of his head were all the answer he needed.
“At the pace you're moving, boy, the maid is going to catch us both.”
It would have sounded far more intimidating if Haytham hadn't sounded as breathless as he did. There was a tremor in his voice that made Connor suddenly feel as if his own breeches were too small but he didn't have the time to move his hands down and pleasure himself nor was it part of his plan.
With a huff, Connor placed his hands back on Haytham's legs and pushed them slightly wider apart so he could scoot forward. The angle wasn't too different but he could fully sit up now, could pay more attention to the tip, to the spot which had Haytham's fingers dancing over his skulls, suddenly breathless and making noises that sounded far too hungry, far too impatient to have come from his father. Knowing that Connor had actually managed to get his father to make these noises felt satisfying.
The knowledge let Connor grow bolder and with a quick move, he had taken the tip of his father's cock into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the slit, the taste growing even saltier and bitterer. Curiosity got the better of him and he took more of it into his mouth, breathing steadily through his nose. His jaw was starting to protest about being kept in this position but Connor gleefully ignored the complaints and went further and further until he was trembling, pushing the limits. He didn't want to cross the line just yet so with a wet noise, he pulled back a little before allowing the steady press his his father's hands to guide him forward again.
It was not entirely comfortable and the noises were too loud in Connor's ears, too wet, too obscene but a glance up at his father showed that it was well worth it. Haytham had his eyes closed and eyebrows knitted together and he was biting down on his bottom lip to keep the noises escaping him to a minimum.
The sight made Connor even more determined to break his father's cool.
With a deliberately slow motion, Connor pulled back until only the tip was in his mouth and his hands had moved over to cover what skin his mouth didn't reach just yet.
And then he started to suck.
With a curse, Haytham let his head fall back, legs trembling and tensing and relaxing as if Haytham was keeping them from moving, from jerking, from letting the pleasure control him. Even with Haytham's head not in complete line of sight, Connor could tell that his cheeks were burning and hair was starting to cling to his brow, wet from the sweat and effort to stay still.
Connor's eagerness seemed to be pushing his at Haytham's self control.
Pleased with the discovery, the Assassin started to bob his head up and down, going further and further until he was removing his hands so he could taste more skin, take more of the cock into his mouth until he was pushing at the limit again and--
he remembered his father doing something with his mouth, making him groan and tremble and--
Connor squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, taking Haytham in to the base.
Suddenly, his father was jerking and hunching over, fingers keeping him locked into place, digging into his skin and pulling at his hair as they clenched. There was a bitter taste flooding Connor's mouth and he couldn't breathe anymore--
Coughing, he pulled back and covered his mouth with a hand, ignoring the burn in his throat in favor of regaining the ability to breathe. Everything tasted bitter and he had to swallow a couple of times, resting his forehead against Haytham's thigh.
“Don't think for one second that this will get you out of running the errands for me, Connor.”
Even out of breath and red-cheeked and disheveled, Haytham still managed to sound in control of the situation. It was incredibly frustrating to see the man gather the pieces of his control so he could act as if he hadn't just come apart mere seconds ago.
Connor rolled his eyes and finally removed his hands from his mouth.
“We'll see about that, won't we?”
----
And then I realized that I hadn't written smut in three years. I hope this is still decent enough for you, OP! Thanks to everyone who read this and commented. I hope you enjoyed it!
Fill (4/4)
“Your... effort is charming, Connor. Unpolished and completely ridiculous, coming from you but perhaps that is why I find it so delightful.”
Fingers were making their way through Connor's hair before stopping at his back and carefully kneading, massaging the tense skin there.
The words had not been gentle, had not been meant to be a soothing balm for the anxiety and yet they had pulled the needle out and discarded it to side, ready to be used whenever it would please Haytham.
But the simple acceptance of Connor's words made the Native breathe out through his nose, shoulders slumping slightly before he narrowed his eyes at the bulge in Haytham's pants. It was time to stop moping and move on to more pressing matters, a situation Connor had happily thrown himself into. And, if he was very honest with himself, very eagerly so.
With the fingers exerting control and comfort against his head, Connor returned to nuzzling his father's penis through his pants, mouthing against it before parting his lips slightly wider and angling his side to the head to press his open mouth against it. Without further ado, he started sucking lightly, eyes darting up to catch the stumble in Haytham's cool facade, in time to see the nostrils flare and his father suddenly holding very, very still. He clearly hadn't expected that.
If Connor's mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied, he would have smirked. Instead, he let his eyes flutter closed and sucked harder, pressing his tongue against clothed skin. It was intoxicating, knowing his father's erection was just beneath his mouth, his father was letting himself slip up, was allowing himself to be this vulnerable. Haytham technically earned very little by letting his son do this to him but the knowledge that he considered it worth it made Connor's stomach do a funny little flip-flop before the heat pooled in. He could feel his face growing hotter, feel the sweat begin to gather at his neck and his father's chuckle indicated that he had noticed it, too.
With a growl, Connor pulled back and started to work on the laces of Haytham's breeches. To his annoyance, he found his fingers too clumsy, too shaky to undo the laughably easy knot and a noise of frustrating escaped him. Stupid guards and their stupid poison.
Above him, Haytham tilted his head to the side and watched in amusement.
That bastard.
Fed up with his unsteady fingers, Connor decided to make short work of the laces and tugged at them until they tore. When he looked up at his father to see the amusement vanish and be replaced by irritation at the prospect of having to either buy a new pair of pants or new laces.
Served him right.
With renewed vigor, Connor yanked at the breeches, pulling them down just enough to reveal hot, red flesh surrounded by dark curls.
The picture suddenly reminded Connor that he had very little idea what he was actually doing. Yes, Haytham had done this to him briefly but all Connor could actually remember was heat and wetness and a tongue lapping at his skin and after that, things had gotten hazy. Very hazy, in fact.
This wasn't the time of looking at his father for guidance, Connor had been the one to offer this, he was the one who had sounded so sure of himself and admitting to not knowing what to do what simply ridiculous. And he was in no mood to swallow his pride.
Besides, he knew enough to keep Haytham happy until he could figure out how to do this. If his father's breathing was any indication, he was doing well enough for now.
Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath before raising his hands and letting them roam, letting them explore his father's erection, listening to the hitches and muffled, barely controlled sighs to slowly learn the spots his father appreciated the most.
Then his lips started to follow his hands, starting at the base, first just pressing, then his tongue darted out to lick at the skin, the taste salty and weird but not unpleasant. He didn't bother looking back up to see if he was doing decently enough, the fingers suddenly digging into the back of his head were all the answer he needed.
“At the pace you're moving, boy, the maid is going to catch us both.”
It would have sounded far more intimidating if Haytham hadn't sounded as breathless as he did. There was a tremor in his voice that made Connor suddenly feel as if his own breeches were too small but he didn't have the time to move his hands down and pleasure himself nor was it part of his plan.
With a huff, Connor placed his hands back on Haytham's legs and pushed them slightly wider apart so he could scoot forward. The angle wasn't too different but he could fully sit up now, could pay more attention to the tip, to the spot which had Haytham's fingers dancing over his skulls, suddenly breathless and making noises that sounded far too hungry, far too impatient to have come from his father. Knowing that Connor had actually managed to get his father to make these noises felt satisfying.
The knowledge let Connor grow bolder and with a quick move, he had taken the tip of his father's cock into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the slit, the taste growing even saltier and bitterer. Curiosity got the better of him and he took more of it into his mouth, breathing steadily through his nose. His jaw was starting to protest about being kept in this position but Connor gleefully ignored the complaints and went further and further until he was trembling, pushing the limits. He didn't want to cross the line just yet so with a wet noise, he pulled back a little before allowing the steady press his his father's hands to guide him forward again.
It was not entirely comfortable and the noises were too loud in Connor's ears, too wet, too obscene but a glance up at his father showed that it was well worth it. Haytham had his eyes closed and eyebrows knitted together and he was biting down on his bottom lip to keep the noises escaping him to a minimum.
The sight made Connor even more determined to break his father's cool.
With a deliberately slow motion, Connor pulled back until only the tip was in his mouth and his hands had moved over to cover what skin his mouth didn't reach just yet.
And then he started to suck.
With a curse, Haytham let his head fall back, legs trembling and tensing and relaxing as if Haytham was keeping them from moving, from jerking, from letting the pleasure control him. Even with Haytham's head not in complete line of sight, Connor could tell that his cheeks were burning and hair was starting to cling to his brow, wet from the sweat and effort to stay still.
Connor's eagerness seemed to be pushing his at Haytham's self control.
Pleased with the discovery, the Assassin started to bob his head up and down, going further and further until he was removing his hands so he could taste more skin, take more of the cock into his mouth until he was pushing at the limit again and--
he remembered his father doing something with his mouth, making him groan and tremble and--
Connor squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, taking Haytham in to the base.
Suddenly, his father was jerking and hunching over, fingers keeping him locked into place, digging into his skin and pulling at his hair as they clenched. There was a bitter taste flooding Connor's mouth and he couldn't breathe anymore--
Coughing, he pulled back and covered his mouth with a hand, ignoring the burn in his throat in favor of regaining the ability to breathe. Everything tasted bitter and he had to swallow a couple of times, resting his forehead against Haytham's thigh.
“Don't think for one second that this will get you out of running the errands for me, Connor.”
Even out of breath and red-cheeked and disheveled, Haytham still managed to sound in control of the situation. It was incredibly frustrating to see the man gather the pieces of his control so he could act as if he hadn't just come apart mere seconds ago.
Connor rolled his eyes and finally removed his hands from his mouth.
“We'll see about that, won't we?”
----
And then I realized that I hadn't written smut in three years. I hope this is still decent enough for you, OP! Thanks to everyone who read this and commented. I hope you enjoyed it!