Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only

Join or Die

✩ 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.

✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Fill - Re: Hickey/Haytham "Oh bugger me - wait I didn't actually mean that seriously!"

[(Anonymous)]

Man, I really wanted this to be way, WAY filthier, but instead it's only just kind of cracky. Pleeeeease someone else have a go at this!! I'm begging here!

Also, I am having disproportionate amounts of fun with 18th Century insults. Haytham just seems the type of fellow to use them. With a great deal of smug but casual relish.

++++

Haytham’s not really quite sure-

All right, perhaps he’s sure how he got here, as in this room. Charles had bailed him up, and in Charles’ carefully worded and perhaps far too sensitive manner had complained to Haytham at length about Thomas Hickey’s inappropriate behaviour. Haytham could have said it was none of his business (which was indeed the case, as far as he was concerned) but while Charles wouldn’t say another word about it, there would be looks and no doubt not a few pointed silences and Haytham was rather quite tired and found it marginally difficult to relax under such circumstances, so he had gone down to the common room and upon finding Hickey in a dark corner with his hand up the skirt of a remarkably unattractive, overly tall and strangely burly woman, had clamped his thumb and fingers upon Hickey’s ear and dragged him upstairs by it, as Hickey reeled drunkenly between laughing and complaining until Haytham had managed to get him inside his room and secure the door behind them.

At which point, there had been some drunken, suggestive and intolerably lewd suggestions on Hickey’s part and some rather increasingly heated words on Haytham’s and they had eventually come to – well, not blows as such because quite frankly had Haytham meant to kill him, Hickey’s corpse would be cold by now. But that’s somewhat where it stops making sense, you see. Because Haytham isn’t really quite sure what exactly happened after that. Perhaps Hickey got a lucky hit in and he blacked out for a short moment between decidedly not killing Hickey and, well, now, this; Hickey’s weight upon him on the narrow bunk and Hickey’s hand down the back of Haytham’s somehow loosened breeches and his tongue in Haytham’s ear and-

Dear God. Who is it making that obscene moaning noise and when are they going to stop? Perhaps he’s been drugged? He doesn’t remember being drugged but surely that’s the only thing that can account for the fire burning beneath his flesh in the wake of Hickey’s hands and mouth and the way he cannot seem to get a proper breath or think or banish the tinderflash of indignant (certainly indignant) sparks twisting his gut at the low, velvety sound of Hickey’s voice in his ear, murmuring a husky, ribald litany of how good he tastes and feels and what Hickey will do to him and how Hickey will give him anything, everything, because Haytham is – and this does come as something of a surprise – the sun and the moon and the stars or some such clap-trap.

Honestly, he doesn’t believe he can be blamed for putting an end to such nonsense with his lips upon Hickey’s, nor does he think it terribly unusual that engaged so, he should suck upon the tongue that immediately introduces itself, slick and hot and sinuous, into his mouth. And if he feels a certain amount of smug satisfaction at the muffled groan that Hickey makes to that, at the way he thrusts his hips argumentatively against Haytham’s, well really, it’s understandable. Effects of the poison and all that. Must be, because his hands are pulling at his own clothing and Hickey’s without his express permission, until there is skin, a great deal of hot, sweaty skin, and Hickey is shifting, his disgustingly wicked grin low and wide, and then lower and wider still until it is closing around Haytham’s-

Oh. Oh. That’s- Hickey is rather surprisingly good at- Ah. Oh dear. Perhaps Haytham ought to stop him, because surely tongues aren’t supposed to be able to do that and-

Where the blazes is he putting his fing-!

Dear God.

Extremely potent poison, that must be it, because Haytham doesn’t remember how his naked legs found their way over Hickey’s shoulders, nor how it is possible that the introduction of something much thicker than Hickey’s fingers should make him clutch at Hickey as if to prevent him from leaving. Someone is hollering. It certainly isn’t him, thank you very much, and it’s a damn shame his pistol is out of reach. Even a knife would do but it’s too late now and he probably wouldn’t be able to hold it even if he could reach it, for his hands open and close uselessly upon Hickey’s broad shoulders as Hickey thrusts and laughs a laugh that makes Haytham think of wonderful, indulgent things – fine linens and his love of Italian chocolate, the feel of the warm summer sun on his skin, and the approving smile of someone long since lost, someone who said Haytham was the centre of the universe with every look, every touch, every word – things he has not allowed himself to remember, to want, in a very, very long time. Which is utterly ridiculously sentimental and entirely inappropriate, because Thomas Hickey is an uncouth lout, an undisciplined niget, an unrepentant thatch-gallows who is… who is…

Who is smiling at him most handsomely, whose hands are most ungentle in all the right ways, who is demanding with hands and mouth and hips that Haytham let go, give over, to let Tom take care of him like this, now, always, ever…

Haytham is probably damn lucky that poison didn’t kill him. The thought occurs to him some indeterminable time later while he attempts to catch his breath and waits for the feeling to return to his feet and considers forcing Hickey’s lax, panting weight off of him. Too much trouble, though. Can’t move his arms. Or his legs for that matter. Terrible state of affairs, really. And it is rather cool in the room. Hadn’t actually noticed. Conveniently, Hickey is quite amazingly warm, draping himself like a blanket or a particularly affectionate bear across Haytham’s exhausted, tingling body. Of course, the drunken sot is asleep in another moment, but never mind. Haytham’s had to endure worse discomforts than being crushed to near death under someone who has no sense of propriety and seems to think the outcome of their disagreement gives him some sort of license to have a hand upon Haytham’s arse like he owns it. Haytham will take it up with him later.

And well, at least Hickey’s behaviour is no longer bothering Charles, or at least Haytham doesn’t think it is, and as long as Charles doesn’t ask, Haytham won’t have to try and explain what just happened, because really, he’s not entirely sure.

Perhaps he’ll sleep on it. Yes, that does seem to be the best thing to do. And if he still can’t come up with a notion of what happened, he may very well have to have this discussion with Thomas Hickey, who even in sleep seems not to be able to moderate his behaviour in any respectable way, again. And again. Until Hickey learns his lesson.

Re: Fill - Re: Hickey/Haytham "Oh bugger me - wait I didn't actually mean that seriously!"

[(Anonymous)]

I don't know what you're talking about man, because this is perfect. Haytham being not quite in control but still very much himself, his indignation even while enjoying himself, Hickey's unexpected romantic side and unrepentant thatch-gallowsness, everything made me grin the whole way through. You are wonderful.

Re: Fill - Re: Hickey/Haytham "Oh bugger me - wait I didn't actually mean that seriously!"

[(Anonymous)]

Oh wow 0.0 this is just..I mean...absolutely...*drool* I think my brain just melted out my ears. I don't know about anyone else but if you were so inclined to write a morning after/round two I would shower you with Internet cookies to your hearts content!

That was just utter perfection! You kept Haytham in character the whole time and let's face it, if anyone was going to be able/dumb enough to attempt such a thing it was going to be Hickey.

(I'm not entirely sure if that made sense but at 2ish in the morning :) )

OP

[(Anonymous)]

Man I ship these two like burning and I think you just made me ship them even more hnnnng.

I did want something really filthy originally, but you totally made me laugh while I read this so A+ anon, awesome job :'D

Ungh I love bottom!Haytham. Pardon me I gotta go fan myself.