Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

✩ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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FILL: Rage Quit 1/1

[(Anonymous)]

"ARGH!"

"Try again, Desmond."

"It's not working, Lucy."

"Just try, okay?"

"Lucy, I've been doing the same fucking jump for the last hour and a half. If I haven't gotten it yet, what makes you think that one more jump is going to change that?"

The blond woman huffed impatiently, drawing back. Desmond was in the Animus, as he had been for the past four hours, trying and failing to get a jump that seemed just beyond his reach. Every time he attempted it, his fingers would brush just below the edge and he'd fall, slamming into the ground with enough force to desynch him. It was frustrating, especially for Lucy, because she knew that with every passing day the Templars were drawing closer to them. Desmond needed to make this jump.

Unfortunately, both Shaun and Rebecca were on Desmond's side about this. "Luce, maybe we should let up for a couple hours, yeah? I mean, I know we're rushed for time, but if Desmond pushes himself anymore, he might burst a vessel." Rebecca warned, looking worried for the man. Shaun was silent, but his troubled expression said it all. Of course, the instant he caught her looking it was gone, replaced by a perfect poker face.

She sighed. "Fine. Desmond, take a couple hours off. We'll try it again later."

"Finally," Desmond grunted, lifting himself out of the Animus. He was seriously pissed; frustrated that he couldn't seem to catch that edge. Always so close, but never enough. He stormed off to his room, resisting the urge to slam the door before throwing himself on the bed. He fell asleep not long after that.

He woke to being roughly shaken, a headache pounding in his temples. "Wha?"

Lucy was shaking him, he realized. "C'mon, we need to get back to work."

Oh right, the Animus. Great, here came another five hours of attempting the one stupid jump all for the sake of the world. Lovely.

If anything, the next five hours turned out to be more hellish than the last. Desmond tried every suggestion made, did everything he could, but he couldn't hit the edge. Eventually Lucy got tired of seeing him splatter himself on the ground and called it a night. Desmond dragged himself back to his room, intending to fall asleep immediately, only to find someone waiting for him.

"Shaun?" The historian looked up as his name was called. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer, but he did get up and walk over. "Believe it or not, I understand the frustration of failure. I know its bite well, Desmond. I also know what helps soothe it after a long day. Here." A cup of something warm and scented was offered up. Desmond took it, not bothering to ask what it was before taking a sip. It was tangy; like fresh oranges with a hint of lemon. Somehow, the drink soothed the tension from his body. He sat on the edge of the bed, drinking it slowly, letting the warmth relax him.

Shaun watched, smiling. He'd never thought Desmond was the sort to appreciate his brand of tea, but it seemed he was. Ducking out to make sure no one was watching, he carefully closed and locked the door, stepping closer to Desmond, who had finished the tea and was carefully setting the cup aside. The historian appreciated the care. His teacups were hardly replaceable, after all. "Now then, if you're willing to trust me, I may know a way to help you find your zen again."

"My what?"

"Zen. It is the inner calm that helps us keep our balance. You've been dealing with a lot lately, Desmond, and I'm not surprised you've lost your calm as a result - no matter how much you may seem to embody it. You're only human, after all."

Desmond didn't argue, merely leaning back on the bed, watching as Shaun drew closer. A coil of anticipation was moving in his belly, warm blazing up his spine in warning. "So, how do we get my zen back?" His voice had gone husky.

Shaun smiled and reached out, running his fingertips gently along the other man's sides. "We get you to relax."

The kiss he gave was somewhat expected, but Desmond couldn't help the small noise of appreciation that came out of him all the same. Shaun was a gentle sort of lover, it seemed, never pushing unless allowed, never asking for anything. Desmond shivered; the idea of being taken care of, even for a brief time, sounded very appealing right now. So he let Shaun guide him down, relinquishing control of the kiss to the older man. He didn't pretend that this was love, or anything of the sort. He wasn't even sure this was lust. It was just necessity; Lucy would keep pushing him until he broke, and Shaun was working to prevent that, to make him flexible enough to withstand strain.

The kisses quickly became heated; Shaun's fingers found the topmost button of his jeans and began undoing them, pushing Desmond's sweat and shirt up and away. Not wanting to leave his partner empty-handed, Desmond's own hands dove down and began undoing Shaun's pants as well.

They parted for air, Shaun chuckling when Desmond groaned in appreciation of having Shaun's hands down his pants. "Better?"

The assassin licked his lips, eyes bright. "Getting there."

The challenge didn't go unnoticed. Grinning, the historian dove back down, locking their mouths while his hands slid over heated flesh, each movement wrenching a noise from his partner. It wasn't long before Shaun was echoing those sounds as Desmond returned the appreciation. It was an even shorter amount of time before Shaun lost his cool and yanked both of their boxers down, pressing his cock against Desmond's in a desperate need for satisfaction. Desmond took hold of his hips while Shaun grasped their cocks together and began thrusting, the sensations practically overwhelming.

It didn't take long for them to come after that, Desmond's nails sinking into his hips as he turned and bit the pillow he was laying on; Shaun hissing, hips stuttering as pleasure washed over them, leaving them boneless. When it was finally over the historian released them, leaning back and trying to regain his lost breath.

After a moment or two of quiet panting, he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth to clean them up with. "Better?" He asked as he handed it over.

Desmond couldn't help but smile a bit. "Much. Thanks Shaun."

"Yes well, don't expect this level of treatment all the time. I do have other, much more important things to do, you know."

Desmond snorted. "Yeah, because being sarcastic and generally aggravating takes SO much effort."

That got him a whack alongside the head, but Shaun was smirking as he did it.

The next morning when Lucy called him back to the Animus, Desmond didn't focus on the wall or the objective, but rather the feeling of calm inside of him. To his delight, when his feet left the ground, his hands found purchase on the wall, and he was able to climb up and over it, completing the mission and transferring him to the next memory.