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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✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

When his alarm woke him, it was to the smell of eggs and bacon. For a moment he wondered if he’d been out to the club and had woken up in someone else’s dorm, but that was a decade ago and, depressingly enough, he hadn’t visited anyone’s bed but his own for a good two years now. Blinking, Clay kicked his way out of the covers, pulling the loose fabric of his baggy jogging trousers up as his feet touched the bare wooden floor. He made his way into the living room.

Behind the kitchen island, Desmond stood in jeans and a hoodie, humming to himself while he moved something in the pan with a fork. Through the large window framed by bookcases on the other side of the room fell a fuzzy beam of pale morning light as the sun dragged itself up behind the clouds. Clay gave a yawn, scratching the back of his head, noticing that the plates and glasses he’d strewn over the kitchen during the last week had been collected and now stood, dry and clean, by the sink.

“Morning,” Clay greeted.

“Morning. Sleep well?” Desmond pointed his fork at the island. “There’s some orange juice. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”

“Yeah.” Sitting down and feeling briefly a guest in his own kitchen, Clay picked up the glass, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Where did I have O.J.?”

“You didn’t, but you had some oranges and a juice squeezer.”

Clay remembered buying oranges a week ago in one of his many high-minded and doomed attempts to bring some vitamins into his diet. He took a sip.

“How was your night?”

“Great. I’ve missed sleeping in a room with a heater. Or any room.” Desmond picked up two of the cleaned plates and heaped scrambled eggs and bacon on them. Together with forks and knives, he carried them over to the island. “I like the picture over my bed, by the way.”

Craning his neck, Clay grinned. A glossy print of five images in a row hung in a silver frame over the black leather couch: Nazca textile next to an Aztec calendar stone, a picture of the messiah descending from the Eastern Gate, a print from the Book of the Dead and finally a part of a Sistine Chapel ceiling fresco. “I chose the combination myself.”

“What’s the connection?” Desmond asked, gesturing with the fork. “One of them is Aztec and the other looks like a renaissance painting, Jesus, some carpet thing... there’s something Egyptian, too. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“They all have a common element. Something that was once worshipped and still watches us from a distance, every day. Think about it.” Clay pierced a piece of bacon, stuffing it in his mouth. It was perfectly crispy.

“So... Desmond.” He regained the man’s attention after a brief moment of him looking at the picture over Clay’s head. “I wondered, why didn’t you stay with friends? You seem pretty sociable. Besides, they could make you cook,” he added, after having taken a mouthful of scrambled eggs, seasoned well with pepper and salt.

Desmond chased bacon over his plate with the fork. “I just moved cities half a year ago. Had a messy break-up and my job wasn’t anything to stay around for either. A guy I’ve met doing parkour knew they were looking for people in this club, the Cloud 17, so I figured, why not? I do know quite a few people here, but not really well enough to stay over at their place for a few weeks.”

“Family?”

“Not a good topic.”

His tone wasn’t harsh, but Clay decided not to prod. He had his own hang-ups concerning his dear relatives, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t sympathise. “Where did you live before you went homeless?”

“East village. There were a couple dozen one-room apartments right above a Chinese restaurant. It was a converted office space with tiny rooms and toilets and communcal showers down the hallway. Pretty dirty. Everything smelled like duck and sweet-and-sour sauce. I liked it, though. There was always someone to talk to, though residents were switching a lot.”

“Moving out or going to jail?” Clay asked, raising a brow.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Desmond pulled a face. “Well, there was that one guy in number 4… that was pretty scary, actually. One morning I came back from the club and the pregnant girl from number 15 sat sobbing on the stairs to our floor. When I asked her what was wrong, she couldn’t really tell me, just mumbled something about room 4. I went to look and the door stood ajar. When I walked in, there was this girl the guy had been dating for a few months. She was on the floor and blood was all over the wall. I wanted to help her, but when I touched her she was already... well, she was cold. I called the police.”

Clay stared at him over his glass of very healthy fresh orange juice. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Daniel – he was a drug addict and he had some mental problems, too. Hallucinations. Kind of nice if you actually talked to him, just really messed in the head.” There was real pity in his voice. “He told me he skipped his meds sometimes. I said it was a bad idea...”

“Not to be cynical, but maybe not living next to a murderer is the sort of thing you could group under ‘look at the bright side’.”

Though his words dripped with irony, Clay felt a touch of affection. Desmond sounded honestly concerned even for a lowlife like that. It was really stupid and a bit sweet at the same time.

“No cult killings for me, then?” Desmond asked, cleaning the rest of his scrambled eggs from the plate with a smile. Clay shook his head as he finished his bacon.

“It’d be a shame to waste a cook like you.”

“It was just scrambled eggs.”

“Well, I can still cut you a little and feed some blood to the dark powers, if you insist, but since you neglected to rob me, I don’t see why I should do you the favour.”

“Point taken.”

Laughing, Desmond raised to take their empty plates while Clay took another gulp from his O.J. The younger man was busying himself with the dishes. Clay didn’t know if it was the easy atmosphere or the fact that he had warm food in his belly before three pm for once, but the thought that they would just part now and never see each other again was strange. Besides, he was alive and unrobbed...

“You’re right, though. You should prove to me you’re worth not ending up demon food. How about you cook dinner, too?”

The stare Desmond gave him reflected surprise bordering on shock. “You want me to come back?”

“Yeah. Why not?” Clay shrugged. “I won’t give you a key, but if you just tell the receptionist at the office you’re waiting for me after you’re done job hunting for today, you wouldn’t have to sit outside. We’ll drive home together.” He finished his juice. “I’m tired of fast food and you took to the dishes like a true fifties house wife.” He smirked. “So if you’d clean and make food, things like that, I wouldn’t mind if you’d spent the nights here.”

“Sure! I mean... thank you!” Desmond gave a shake of his head and laughed. “Man, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I’ll definitely pay you back the rent when I get a job.”

“Don’t worry about that for now.” It felt a bit show-offy to highlight the fact that he was making pretty good money and another person’s food and whatever fifty bucks he was going to add in electricity and water bills weren’t going to bankrupt him. Clay raised from his chair. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”

“Alright. I’ll pack what I need for today,” Desmond said, beaming.

When they left, Desmond had switched from his backpack to a small black triangular bag strapped over his back. He was still in the living room when Clay opened the apartment door and as he looked up to call for him, Desmond pointed at the picture over the couch.

“I get it. The sun,” he said, smiling brighter than the morning light shining through the window that framed his head of dark hair.

*

Re: Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

I just got this idea of Shaun complaining about Desmond, and Clay defending him by snarking back that Desmond understood his picture collection faster than Shaund did. *cackles*

Oooh, I'm really loving this fic. I was disappointed there wasn't more Clay/Desmond interaction in ACR (or if there was, I didn't see it. I whipped through the the main story so I could get to AC3 faster.) And this I think is exactly how the two would interact if there hadn't been all the Assassin/Templar animus crap between them.

Re: Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

That idea is amazing, I think I might have to steal that. XD

Thank you so much! Yeah, the interaction was only like... 8 minutes tops, I think that's the length of the youtube video which compiles their scenes. Which was a shame! I think they would have gotten along well and I so wanted to see more of Clay, not only in the 'talking over 3D tetris' flashback thing that the DLC provided. I loved him since he stuttered his way through the glyph sections.

Re: Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Steal away! :D It's an extremely amusing image, no? (I can see Shaun spluttering w/ Rebecca cackling already!)

Aww...really? I was thinking of going back through ACR after finishing AC3, and see if synching or getting Animus fragments would give me some more vids with the two. *pouts* I love Clay, though I will admit he creeped me out through all the games...and then I felt so bad for him after playing Lost Archive.

But my headcanon for Clay is growing, and the banter between Des and Clay would be awesome.

OP

[(Anonymous)]

I am so in love with this it's not even funny asdfghjkl;

There's something just so right about Desmond being such a housewife.

I'm not sure if I should be proud or ashamed of the fact that I love AC so much that I still remember tiny details like that one time 15 was mentioned and she was pregnant. And lmao, Daniel, always causing ruckus.

Can't wait for more anon!

Re: OP

[(Anonymous)]

Heeeh, happy you like it!

Well, that's the skills he got in his job! Plus, he's too nice a guy. xD

I hoped someone would be as obsessed as me pick up on this. And Daniel's dead girlfriend was such a terrible backstory detail that I just had to fit it in here.

Re: OP

[(Anonymous)]

incoherent yelling because otp??????

(omfg captcha is asking me what william's name is get out of here bill we don't want you)

Re: Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

I'm awful and only just found and read this, almost a year after it was posted... But I'm in love. The interaction between the two of them is so perfect (Clay just dripping with cynicism vs. Desmond's flirty bright eyes) and every little reference like Clay living on floor 16, the pictures in his apartment, even Daniel and Subject 15... Swoon. I'd pay real god damn money for more of this fic.

Re: Clay/Desmond: Homecoming (5/?)

[(Anonymous)]

I absolutely love this fic!!!!! I don't know if its dead but if Writer sees this I hope they will continue it! There is not enough Clay and Desmond fics in this world! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Continue to write this!! I will love you forever!!!!