Desmond made his way to the makeshift bedroom that wasn’t even really a room. Even when he slept, the Animus and constantly droning servers were there. Privacy was something he’d almost completely given up on.
He cast a glance in Shaun’s direction. As long as he stayed on the side of the bed closer to the window, he wouldn’t be able to see him. Desmond put his boxers on under the towel before letting it fall to the floor, just to be safe. He climbed into bed, the cool white sheets brushing over his legs. He was still warm from the long shower. He’d been so close…
Keeping an eye on the corner of the wall that was blocking his view of Shaun, he tried to relax. Maybe he could fall asleep and take some extra time in the bathroom the next morning.
But Shaun was right there and reading and maybe still a little buzzed. He probably wouldn’t even notice. He probably expected Desmond to do it.
The thought of Shaun distractedly thumbing through that book and waiting was making Desmond hard. He traced the waistband of his boxers with his thumb. It had been days and he was aching. If he didn’t do it now, he’d probably have some ridiculous fifteenth-century sex dream and come all over the sheets.
He drew his knee up to make his outline a little less obvious and pulled his boxers down around his hips. He felt around on the floor beside the bed for his towel so he could grab it quickly. Judging by the way his body was already humming, he’d probably need it very soon.
The first touch felt so good that he had to turn his head to the side and press the pillow against his mouth with his free hand. It muffled his moan but it was far from silent. He sped up, not really caring that his legs were spread wide, making his movements even more noticeable.
“Desmond?” Shaun asked suddenly, still at his desk, as though something very important had just occurred to him.
Desmond frantically scrambled to get his hands out from under the sheets, trying to slow his breathing at the same time.
“Not a good time,” he said.
“Sorry, mate. Just had a thought,” Shaun explained. “Are you always like that at bars?”
Desmond swallowed twice. It was hard to speak.
“Yeah.”
“You felt like you were in control the whole time? It wasn’t…”
“No, that was me,” Desmond said. The implication was clear. “Ezio hates beer. Hated,” he amended quickly.
“Alright, don’t get defensive. I was just making sure.”
Desmond slowly returned his hand to his cock. Shaun’s voice was getting him even harder.
“What was I like at the bar?” Desmond asked, silently pumping himself.
Shaun didn’t answer at first. Desmond moved his hand faster.
“Well it’s obvious what was on your mind,” Shaun finally said with a quiet laugh. Desmond thought he’d heard a slight catch at the end.
“It’s been a while,” Desmond told him. Everything was getting warm. There was definitely a muffled sound from Shaun’s corner. Desmond dug his heels into the mattress to get some leverage.
“How long?” Shaun asked.
Desmond panted and tried to turn it into a thoughtful sound. “I didn’t exactly write it down.”
Another long pause.
“It’s the fourteenth,” Shaun said.
Desmond groaned and closed his eyes. Shaun must have climbed over the glass and metal railing because when Desmond opened them again, he was standing at the foot of the bed, breathing hard and jerking off.
Desmond kicked the sheets off and got to his knees. He thrust into his hand, eyes locked on Shaun’s cock. It was bigger than he would’ve thought, thick and straight.
“Is it true,” Shaun said, “that you like it rough?”
Fuck, this was really happening.
Desmond grit his teeth. “God yeah.”
“Good.”
Shaun took a condom out of his pocket before he pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his pants. Desmond took a few seconds to discard his boxers. He waited for Shaun to tear open the package.
Instead, he handed it to Desmond.
“You sure?” Desmond asked uncertainly as he took it and moved behind Shaun. He wanted it- shit, he wanted it- but Shaun hadn’t struck him as the type.
Shaun dropped to his knees and worked his hand over his cock.
Should I Walk By Again? [5/?]
He cast a glance in Shaun’s direction. As long as he stayed on the side of the bed closer to the window, he wouldn’t be able to see him. Desmond put his boxers on under the towel before letting it fall to the floor, just to be safe. He climbed into bed, the cool white sheets brushing over his legs. He was still warm from the long shower. He’d been so close…
Keeping an eye on the corner of the wall that was blocking his view of Shaun, he tried to relax. Maybe he could fall asleep and take some extra time in the bathroom the next morning.
But Shaun was right there and reading and maybe still a little buzzed. He probably wouldn’t even notice. He probably expected Desmond to do it.
The thought of Shaun distractedly thumbing through that book and waiting was making Desmond hard. He traced the waistband of his boxers with his thumb. It had been days and he was aching. If he didn’t do it now, he’d probably have some ridiculous fifteenth-century sex dream and come all over the sheets.
He drew his knee up to make his outline a little less obvious and pulled his boxers down around his hips. He felt around on the floor beside the bed for his towel so he could grab it quickly. Judging by the way his body was already humming, he’d probably need it very soon.
The first touch felt so good that he had to turn his head to the side and press the pillow against his mouth with his free hand. It muffled his moan but it was far from silent. He sped up, not really caring that his legs were spread wide, making his movements even more noticeable.
“Desmond?” Shaun asked suddenly, still at his desk, as though something very important had just occurred to him.
Desmond frantically scrambled to get his hands out from under the sheets, trying to slow his breathing at the same time.
“Not a good time,” he said.
“Sorry, mate. Just had a thought,” Shaun explained. “Are you always like that at bars?”
Desmond swallowed twice. It was hard to speak.
“Yeah.”
“You felt like you were in control the whole time? It wasn’t…”
“No, that was me,” Desmond said. The implication was clear. “Ezio hates beer. Hated,” he amended quickly.
“Alright, don’t get defensive. I was just making sure.”
Desmond slowly returned his hand to his cock. Shaun’s voice was getting him even harder.
“What was I like at the bar?” Desmond asked, silently pumping himself.
Shaun didn’t answer at first. Desmond moved his hand faster.
“Well it’s obvious what was on your mind,” Shaun finally said with a quiet laugh. Desmond thought he’d heard a slight catch at the end.
“It’s been a while,” Desmond told him. Everything was getting warm. There was definitely a muffled sound from Shaun’s corner. Desmond dug his heels into the mattress to get some leverage.
“How long?” Shaun asked.
Desmond panted and tried to turn it into a thoughtful sound. “I didn’t exactly write it down.”
Another long pause.
“It’s the fourteenth,” Shaun said.
Desmond groaned and closed his eyes. Shaun must have climbed over the glass and metal railing because when Desmond opened them again, he was standing at the foot of the bed, breathing hard and jerking off.
Desmond kicked the sheets off and got to his knees. He thrust into his hand, eyes locked on Shaun’s cock. It was bigger than he would’ve thought, thick and straight.
“Is it true,” Shaun said, “that you like it rough?”
Fuck, this was really happening.
Desmond grit his teeth. “God yeah.”
“Good.”
Shaun took a condom out of his pocket before he pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his pants. Desmond took a few seconds to discard his boxers. He waited for Shaun to tear open the package.
Instead, he handed it to Desmond.
“You sure?” Desmond asked uncertainly as he took it and moved behind Shaun. He wanted it- shit, he wanted it- but Shaun hadn’t struck him as the type.
Shaun dropped to his knees and worked his hand over his cock.
“Hurry up before I change my mind.”