Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Connor/Clipper: Freedom (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

(Bit of a warning: Detailed description of a deer being dressed.)

“Very good.“

Peering once more at the deer, Clipper found the animal had stopped twitching. The shot in the back of the head had likely pierced its brain, just as he’d planned. Clipper lowered his musket and gave a satsified smile as he got up out of the brushwork.

“Thank you, sir.”

He craned his neck. On a branch a good eight feet above him, Connor perched like an eagle, half-obscured by the leaves. Clipper saluted him before he walked through the knee-high bushes to his kill.

Blood seeped into the ground. He turned the deer’s warm head to inspect the entrance hole. The bullet had fragmented as it met resistance. It widened the field of impact and made for a messier wound, but the fur around the middle was better for leather work, anyhow.

There was the sound of feet thudding on the ground and lots of very deadly equipment clinking together with a metallic chime. Second’s later, Connor’s shadow fell over him, though he hadn’t heard a single footstep rustling the fallen leaves. Clipper liked to think hunting since he was old enough to hold a pistol had taught him a thing or two. Connor, though, he was something else entirely. Wherever he was, he seemed to be able to let the environment swallow him, sight, sound, smell and all.

Clipper took the dagger from his belt, but stopped. “Always wanted to ask – you say something before you skin an animal, sir. What’s that?”

“Nia:wen,“ Connor answered in that grave, even tone of his. “I thank the animal for the life and what it will yield for me.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Clipper decided with a nod. “Nia-wan... ?”

“The thought is worth more than the word,” the other assassin decided generously.

Connor sat by his side. It had Clipper shift unconsciously, make more room than necessary. Though Connor could all but erase himself when he wanted to, this close, he had a gripping presence about him. The obvious strength in those broad shoulders and limbs thick with muscle moving in ever-present tension under the coat, the steady, piercing gaze, it all worked together to make him appear taller, wider. Or perhaps that was just Clipper’s imagination...

To make sure that the animal did not suffer its last moment in silence, should there be a spark of life left, Clipper slit its throat, concentrating on the feeling of warm red liquid running thick between his fingers. It was a good distraction.

“Your shots are always clean. I am not that good,” Connor noted.

Clipper could feel his chest swell with pride. He knew Connor never complimented without reason and to honestly impress him was a feat not easily accomplished. “I can’t jump from horseback on a stag and get it with a hidden blade, though, like you did last week.”

This made Connor smile. He smiled very little lately (though Clipper supposed he’d never really been the cheery type), which was one reason he was happy their hunting trips were getting more regular. Not that Clipper pretended to know Connor all that well – no one really did, perhaps that was the problem –, but since the death of Charles Lee, it seemed to him the man was a bit listless and spend too much time alone in that big mansion of his.

They turned the deer on its back and Clipper pressed his hand into the short fur finding the sternum and slit the soft belly open from chest to groin, careful not to pierce the organs underneath. It was a movement so ingrained in him, he barely had to waste a thought on it. As they watched the blood flow, Connor’s tongue slipped out wetting his lips, like a wolf regarding the spoils of his pack’s hunt.

It made Clipper remind himself, as he would now and again, that this was not one of his smarter ideas.

Connor was an alpha. He’d never voiced it, but then, Clipper didn’t need him to. Right before he had the worst four days of his life, every month the worst four days, it seemed to him, his nose would tell him. Only he tried to keep away from Connor then because he might be able to pick up on Clipper’s smell as well. People, Connor included, thought Clipper was a beta and Clipper was mighty fine with that. Thankfully, it was easier to pose in the big city, what with all the people around. There were lots of betas to blend in with if you were halfway smart about it.

Alpha, beta, omega. They were Greek letters or something, but Clipper couldn’t really tell Greek from Latin anyway. He hadn’t gone to school too long. All he really needed to know was that being an omega was bad news, whatever the old Greeks thought about it. Alphas and their noses could get an omega like him into real trouble.

But then, Connor wasn’t just an alpha. He was a man Clipper admired as a fighter and assassin and lately a friend. What’s more, a friend who seemed to really need a bit of company and distraction and their time together gave him that. Clipper wasn’t one to leave his friends hanging, no, for sure not. He’d just have to keep himself in check.

It would work, he had promised himself that. Clipper had always hated the idea of being restricted by his nature, though anyone would have told him it was his lot in life and he should try to bear it with grace. Weak. Dependant. Too easy to tempt. Omega. He should have consented, but in his own quiet, stubborn way, he found he could not. He plain didn’t like the idea of foregoing a friendship because of something that had been decided for him before his birth.

His disposition still haunted him, of course, though he could never tell why he couldn’t take his eyes off Connor’s full lips or the arch of the muscle of his neck or the intense gaze of his brown eyes even when the heat cycle was weeks away. Better to ignore it like the rest of his these unwanted impulses, though.

“Clipper?”

Clipper jerked and almost dropped the knife into the deer’s guts. Connor’s look was questioning.

“Sorry. Been thinking,” Clipper said. “You want to get the horse? I’ll finish field dressing and we can hang it up at your place.”

Connor nodded his head. Despite Clipper’s convictions – breathing got easier when Connor moved away.

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