Shaun is on clean-up again the next night. Lucy really wasn't kidding about that yoghurt.
This time the girls leave a good while before they expect Desmond to surface, reminding Shaun of all the things that need tidying and what needs replacing. Rebecca in particular takes a bizarre joy in bossing Shaun around, not that he was surprised.
But before long it is just the two of them again.
Well, the two of them and the Animus. The flicker of Desmond's eyelids is much more noticeable from where Shaun is sat next to it. His mouth is parted slightly.
Shaun wonders what it's like to kiss Desmond when he's all vulnerable and not-really-there, and is vaguely aware of his own erection straining against the crux of his trousers.
Desmond tastes like his skin feels. Pliant, warm, comforting. Shaun can't keep control of his own hands as he leans over the man in the animus - one is cupping the back of Desmond's head, the other stroking his chest, lower now, lower - pressing against the scrap of exposed stomach, then working past the jeans. He strokes Desmond through his boxers as he kisses him, hoping against hope against hope that neither Lucy or Rebecca come back to check.
Shaun finds himself drawing back from the kiss, only to meet Desmond's open eyes - half-lidded and unfocused, but undeniably open - and his heart skips a beat. He licks his lips. Desmond stays awake, not saying a word, merely breathing with the slow regularity Shaun has gotten used to.
'God,' Shaun says blankly, 'damn it. You're awake, aren't you?'
'Yes,' Desmond murmurs, but in a dreamy tone of voice that implies he isn't fully awake - hell, the lack of bleeping means he's maintaining a full sync rate in there - and Shaun's heartrate quickens. 'That was nice.'
Shaun 's other hand is still down Desmond's jeans. He moves it with experimental slowness, keeping his eyes trained on Desmond's face; when he wraps his hand around Desmond's erection, the man's eyes close again. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat.
Feeling like the lowest person alive, Shaun speeds up.
'Shaun,' Desmond says, in that same faraway tone. 'That...K-keep doing that.'
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This time the girls leave a good while before they expect Desmond to surface, reminding Shaun of all the things that need tidying and what needs replacing. Rebecca in particular takes a bizarre joy in bossing Shaun around, not that he was surprised.
But before long it is just the two of them again.
Well, the two of them and the Animus. The flicker of Desmond's eyelids is much more noticeable from where Shaun is sat next to it. His mouth is parted slightly.
Shaun wonders what it's like to kiss Desmond when he's all vulnerable and not-really-there, and is vaguely aware of his own erection straining against the crux of his trousers.
Desmond tastes like his skin feels. Pliant, warm, comforting. Shaun can't keep control of his own hands as he leans over the man in the animus - one is cupping the back of Desmond's head, the other stroking his chest, lower now, lower - pressing against the scrap of exposed stomach, then working past the jeans. He strokes Desmond through his boxers as he kisses him, hoping against hope against hope that neither Lucy or Rebecca come back to check.
Shaun finds himself drawing back from the kiss, only to meet Desmond's open eyes - half-lidded and unfocused, but undeniably open - and his heart skips a beat. He licks his lips. Desmond stays awake, not saying a word, merely breathing with the slow regularity Shaun has gotten used to.
'God,' Shaun says blankly, 'damn it. You're awake, aren't you?'
'Yes,' Desmond murmurs, but in a dreamy tone of voice that implies he isn't fully awake - hell, the lack of bleeping means he's maintaining a full sync rate in there - and Shaun's heartrate quickens. 'That was nice.'
Shaun 's other hand is still down Desmond's jeans. He moves it with experimental slowness, keeping his eyes trained on Desmond's face; when he wraps his hand around Desmond's erection, the man's eyes close again. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat.
Feeling like the lowest person alive, Shaun speeds up.
'Shaun,' Desmond says, in that same faraway tone. 'That...K-keep doing that.'