The ride back felt much longer than it really was. Lucy gripped the steering wheel too hard, Rebecca watched the stars through her open window, and Shaun couldn’t decide on a radio station. Finally, Lucy smacked his hand away from the console.
“Leave it, Shaun.”
“This song’s too sexy. I want something soothing.”
“Too bad,” Lucy replied.
Desmond hummed along.
___________________
There was a knock on the bathroom door and Desmond froze, cock in hand.
“Des, come on! I drank like five beers and a ton of water,” Rebecca told the door.
“Christ, give me a second, alright?” He turned off the shower and stepped out of the stall. He tried to remember unsexy things- the quadratic formula, the name of his third grade teacher, construction dates of landmarks in Venice… no. Fuck, not that. He heard that in Shaun’s voice.
Desmond wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Rebecca looked past him and stared longingly at the toilet.
“Your priorities are really fucked up right now,” Desmond informed her as he left the bathroom.
___________________
Desmond walked to his room, dripping water the entire way. While few things sucked quite as much as an interrupted jerk off session, there was a lot to be said for the eventual payoff.
But a warm glow was coming from the room and spilling out into the corridor. It wasn’t the usual bluish-white light of the screens, but that was there too.
Shaun was hunched over a book, glancing occasionally at the mass of paper pinned to the corkboard on the wall.
“Do you always work on your days off?”
Shaun leaned back in his chair, making it squeak. He held his wristwatch up for inspection.
“It’s 1:04.”
“OK,” Desmond replied. “I’d really like to get some sleep.”
Shaun made a sweeping gesture that took in the rest of the space.
“It’s all yours.” He returned to his book.
“Uhhh…” Desmond lowered his voice. “I actually prefer to sleep alone.”
“Really, Desmond?”
It was the most sarcastic thing he’d ever heard.
“I like to sleep alone,” he clarified, getting angry.
“We both know you’re not planning on sleeping for a while,” Shaun said, still skimming the book. “And I have a lot of really important things to do. Things that don’t involve wanking or chatting up strangers in bars. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to do them.”
Desmond pressed his fingers into his temple, trying to stop the headache that was just starting.
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, Desmond. It’s always about you. The rest of us are just here to provide atmosphere and the occasional laugh.”
“Then why cock block me?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly relationship material.” Desmond tried to speak but Shaun held up a hand. “No, just listen. What would you say when they asked where you work? Where you’re from? And maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt you’d tell them about seeing things that’ve been gone for hundreds of years.”
Desmond dragged a hand through his short hair, sending a tiny stream of water down the back of his neck.
“It wouldn’t have been like that,” he said.
“Well what were you looking for, Desmond?” Shaun asked. It was a challenge.
“Sex, mostly.”
“Mostly,” Shaun repeated, a less than subtle way of getting him to expand on the statement.
“Maybe a hug, I don’t know,” Desmond said, throwing his hands up before dropping them to his sides. “Look, you’re kind of creeping me out right now so I’m just going to go to bed.”
Shaun irritably pulled an even larger book from the stack on his desk and flipped it open to the index.
Should I Walk By Again? [4/?]
“Leave it, Shaun.”
“This song’s too sexy. I want something soothing.”
“Too bad,” Lucy replied.
Desmond hummed along.
There was a knock on the bathroom door and Desmond froze, cock in hand.
“Des, come on! I drank like five beers and a ton of water,” Rebecca told the door.
“Christ, give me a second, alright?” He turned off the shower and stepped out of the stall. He tried to remember unsexy things- the quadratic formula, the name of his third grade teacher, construction dates of landmarks in Venice… no. Fuck, not that. He heard that in Shaun’s voice.
Desmond wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Rebecca looked past him and stared longingly at the toilet.
“Your priorities are really fucked up right now,” Desmond informed her as he left the bathroom.
Desmond walked to his room, dripping water the entire way. While few things sucked quite as much as an interrupted jerk off session, there was a lot to be said for the eventual payoff.
But a warm glow was coming from the room and spilling out into the corridor. It wasn’t the usual bluish-white light of the screens, but that was there too.
Shaun was hunched over a book, glancing occasionally at the mass of paper pinned to the corkboard on the wall.
“Do you always work on your days off?”
Shaun leaned back in his chair, making it squeak. He held his wristwatch up for inspection.
“It’s 1:04.”
“OK,” Desmond replied. “I’d really like to get some sleep.”
Shaun made a sweeping gesture that took in the rest of the space.
“It’s all yours.” He returned to his book.
“Uhhh…” Desmond lowered his voice. “I actually prefer to sleep alone.”
“Really, Desmond?”
It was the most sarcastic thing he’d ever heard.
“I like to sleep alone,” he clarified, getting angry.
“We both know you’re not planning on sleeping for a while,” Shaun said, still skimming the book. “And I have a lot of really important things to do. Things that don’t involve wanking or chatting up strangers in bars. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to do them.”
Desmond pressed his fingers into his temple, trying to stop the headache that was just starting.
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, Desmond. It’s always about you. The rest of us are just here to provide atmosphere and the occasional laugh.”
“Then why cock block me?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly relationship material.” Desmond tried to speak but Shaun held up a hand. “No, just listen. What would you say when they asked where you work? Where you’re from? And maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt you’d tell them about seeing things that’ve been gone for hundreds of years.”
Desmond dragged a hand through his short hair, sending a tiny stream of water down the back of his neck.
“It wouldn’t have been like that,” he said.
“Well what were you looking for, Desmond?” Shaun asked. It was a challenge.
“Sex, mostly.”
“Mostly,” Shaun repeated, a less than subtle way of getting him to expand on the statement.
“Maybe a hug, I don’t know,” Desmond said, throwing his hands up before dropping them to his sides. “Look, you’re kind of creeping me out right now so I’m just going to go to bed.”
Shaun irritably pulled an even larger book from the stack on his desk and flipped it open to the index.
“’Night,” he said quietly.