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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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Discussion
Charles Lee, masturbation.
(Anonymous) 2013-01-25 07:48 am (UTC)(link)Re: Charles Lee, masturbation.
(Anonymous) 2013-01-27 09:17 am (UTC)(link)Fill [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2013-02-19 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)It began with denial.
Well. No.
It began with Haytham Kenway deboarding the ship with his dapper hat and his poise and his subtle smile and the way he said Charles, which was oddly titillating even though Charles had obviously heard that name many, many times before.
But it was different when Master Kenway said it, somehow.
After Master Kenway came the denial. The grand master inspired such an array of emotions that it was easy for Charles to attribute a racing heart or an accidental smile to something entirely different than attraction. He respected Master Kenway, of course. And as Master Kenway had inducted him into the Order, Charles was determined to be useful and make Master Kenway – and the entire Templar Order, he supposed – sure that his faith was not misplaced. Charles wouldn’t go as far as to say that he and the grand master were friends, but Haytham Kenway was his mentor and considering he accepted that role Charles was assuming he was within the grand master’s favor.
And there was the denial. It was easy, and he was certain that if he ignored the notion that he thought of Master Kenway with anything but dignity and respect that it would go away with time.
Then had come the dream.
It was in the Green Dragon and Master Kenway was in Charles’ room with his head between the young Templar’s parted knees. Charles hadn’t a clue how they had gotten to this point, but in the dream it didn’t matter – nothing mattered, not with the grand master (the grand master!) massaging his thighs and kissing along the base of his member. He’d slid his tongue along it with a smile up at Charles. When he took it into his mouth Charles had dissolved into pleasure like a schoolboy touched for the first time. His eyes had fluttered shut and he’d awoken in his bed, very much alone and very much aroused.
Since the dream, it was difficult to look at Master Kenway’s face without picturing that half-smile and the adoring way he’d lavished his cock – no, that was ridiculous, degrading the grand master to some perverted fantasy he would surely never take part in.
Even if Charles could no longer hide in the folds of denial, he had to live with the reality that Haytham would react with disgust rather than intrigue if his mentee admitted he fantasized about him on his knees.
So that’s where he was now.
Specifically, he was reclining on his bed in the Green Dragon and running his hand along the slight bulge in his pants. One leg was propped up and the other was sprawled out before him, and his head was tilted back against the headboard of the bed. He’d kicked off his boots at the door and removed his coat and vest so that he simply had on a cream-colored undershirt and his pair of pants. Everyone had retired to their rooms – Master Kenway included – leaving Charles alone in his with his thoughts drifting to that half-smile.
He gave a soft sigh, arching his hips ever so slightly into his own touch. It was a fantasy. A childish fantasy. How would something like that even come about – with the grand master of the Templar Order showing up at his door with an armful of roses, or singing an ode outside his window? Or perhaps it’d be more perfect with none of that at all – with Haytham Kenway swinging open the door to Charles’ room and come sauntering with such purpose as he always did.
Charles palmed himself more quickly, widening his knees further and beginning to feel the heat pool between his legs. His eyes closed and his lips parted as he indulged on the muted pleasure that was beginning to seep through him. He had meant to just idly tease himself, but the image of the grand master leering at him so yearningly from the doorway made his hips jolt beneath his hand.
He’d kiss him, of course. For however much Charles imagined the grand master sans clothing, he craved the idea of Master Kenway holding his chin up and pressing their lips together without giving Charles time to react. His other arm would wrap around Charles’ waist and hold him close, pressing both of their bodies together like they were lovers. His hand would brush against Charles’ rear – Charles would be too keen to think it an accident – and he would gasp against Haytham’s lips.
“Charles,” Haytham would say, breathless, different than how he usually said it but the same, somehow. And he would drift his hand from Charles’ chin to his cheek, caressing it fondly, as though this were the last time they’d be together, as if even he knew it was all just a fantasy.
“Master Kenway,” Charles would reply, not able to call him Haytham even in the very depths of his imagination. The grand master would brush his lips up against Charles’ and breathe a long sigh, because perhaps Charles saying his name was just as beautiful as Haytham saying Charles’.
Charles’ breathing hitched and he decided that his pants were no longer needed for this present situation. Giving a grunt and pulling his hand away for just a moment, he undid the laces on his pants and yanked them down his legs. After he freed them from his ankles he returned his attention to the task at hand – more specifically, his arousal perked between his thighs. With a quivering breath, he reached out and ran his hand along his shaft, relishing the bare contact.
Haytham would be kind but impatient, torn with want as his kisses drifted along Charles’ jaw and down to the young man’s neck. Charles would heave a harsh breath and wet his lips and lean into the grand master’s muscular body. Charles had seen him shirtless once and the image was burned into his mind, able to be manipulated for his own mental wanderings. He imagined his hands slipping beneath Haytham’s coat and sliding up the smooth of the other’s back. The grand master’s skin would feel warm and taut beneath his fingers, and Haytham’s breath would be hot against his neck.
Charles pumped himself more quickly, his hips jerking up to meet each stroke.
“Sit,” the grand master would be telling him, whispering the words into his ear.
Charles would shudder and obey without hesitation, for no one could resist a command from Master Kenway – and especially not from Haytham. He would reluctantly let his arms drop and he’d step back to sit down on the edge of the bed. It would not be what Haytham wanted and he would make that clear by gently pushing at Charles’ chest until the young Templar understood and began to scoot backwards towards the headboard. Haytham would climb onto the bed after and crawl like a lanky predator up the sheets.
He’d be smiling that half-smile of his, Charles imagined. The grand master didn’t seem like a doting man, but during the night behind a closed door he could be, and during the night behind Charles’ closed door he was anything Charles wished him to be.
His breathing was hitched now, but so immersed in the fantasy he scarcely noticed. Normally he made a point of being quiet, but heat flushed through him as he ran his thumb across his head and he gave a feeble groan. So good. With his eyes closed the bed didn’t look so empty and he shivered as he bucked into his fist.
Re: Fill [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2013-02-19 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2013-02-19 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill [1/2]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-09 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)