"This is bullshit." Desmond growled, glowering at the empty dirt road ahead of him, his grip white-knuckled. He glared at the offending patch of road before him, as though it would somehow cause it to morph into sweet, black asphalt – that he'd wake up from this horrible dream and find himself on his way home from work, half drunk and mad with exhaustion.
"I never wanted to be an assassin. Fuck. Why do I have to wear this again?" Desmond demanded, using one hand to loosen his tie. He and Shaun had gone to get supplies for the safe house, and upon Lucy's suggestion, had worn business suits to disguise themselves. A suit was so different from Desmond's normal attire that a suit had been a simple disguise…. but it pissed Desmond the fuck off.
"Oh sod off, would you? You're such a woman." Shaun muttered with a roll of his eyes, his middle finger pressing against the frame of his glasses, pushing them up on his nose. "You can't [i]still[/i] be bitching about this." The historian sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. His brows pinched together as he heard Desmond growl.
"Oh, so I don't want to kill people. That makes me a woman. Fuck you, Shaun." He growled; his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the man from the corner of his eye.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the bespectacled man muttered, stretching slightly. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, you twat. All you do is whine and complain about how you didn't want this, poor you – well too bloody bad! Your DNA happens to be the right match." He quipped, sending him a glare. "Grow some balls already, Desmond."
Desmond's lips twitched, pressing together into a thin line. The scar along the side of his mouth warped as his mouth moved. "Shut the fuck up, Shaun." He growled quietly. His already tight grip on the wheel tightened further, until his fingers ached.
"Oh, and what [i]will[/i] you do, Desmond? Mix me a martini? Oh, I'm [i]shaking[/i] in my boots, here." He sneered, eyes closed behind his glasses.
That last remark was the final straw. Desmond slammed on the breaks, jerking the wheel stiffly to the right, coming to a screeching halt beside an old farmhouse. Shaun yelped, pitching forwards, his glasses knocked off his nose. "Desmond, you bloody idiot-- "
Desmond growled, cutting him off. He got out of the car, pulling open the passenger door. He grabbed Shaun by his tie, growling. "So I'm a woman, huh?" He spat, pinning the shorter man against the car. He captured his lips in a bruising kiss, biting at them, his knee pressed between his legs.
Shaun hissed, biting Desmond's lip hard, causing the younger man to cry out, pulling back. He wiped blood from his lip, narrowing his eyes. Shaun squinted – he was close enough where he could make out Desmond's face, but he was horribly near-sighted. Everything past Desmond's face was a blur.
"What the bloody fuck is your problem!?" Shaun demanded, shoving him backwards hard, kneeing the assassin-in-training in the gut. Choking, Desmond grabbed a hold of Shaun's tie as he fell back, ending up on his ass, the historian sprawled atop him and choking slightly from the tight hold on his silk tie. Growling, the brit aimed a punch for Desmond's face – though it connected with his shoulder.
"OW! Fuck!" Desmond yowled, grabbing the man roughly by the shoulders and flipping them over. There was a fair bit of cursing from the both of them as they struggled and rolled, Shaun's tie coming loose due to Desmond's yanking. Shaun yelped when his head hit the door of the barn, causing it to creak open. Seizing his chance, Desmond straddled the historian, using the loosened tie to bind Shaun's wrists together.
He was about ready to claim another rough kiss when Shaun's knees hit him in the back, causing him to pitch forwards through the open barn door. Swearing loudly, he turned in time to see Shaun standing up, trying to bite at the bindings around his wrists. He grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him into the barn and shoving his back against the nearest wall. Struggling to pin his hands, he ended up tying the tie to a metal peg that stuck out of the wall. Growling a bit, he backhanded Shaun across the face, smirking at the yelp of pain he received in return, the skin blossoming and turning red where he'd struck.
"F-fuck…" Shaun hissed, spitting out a bit of blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. He glared at Desmond – or where he thought he was, anyway.
Desmond grinned, seeming amused. Seeing Shaun glare in his vague direction was quite comical. He gripped his chin in a tight clasp. "I'm sick and tired of how you treat me, Shaun. You bitch at me, call me a wimp, complain about how you wish [i]you[/i] were the one. Well you know what? Too goddamn bad." He growled. He was about to speak again when Shaun spat blood in his face, the liquid landing on his chin.
"F-fuck you, Desmond." Shaun hissed out. Desmond's eyes narrowed and he wiped away the offending fluid on the back of his hand. Annoyed, he pulled his belt from his pants, folding it in half and snapping it together, the sound making Shaun jump and recoil slightly. Instead of hitting him, he used the belt and bound Shaun's forearms tightly together, forcing them almost completely vertical above his head.
Shaun hissed in discomfort at the tightening of the belt, trying to kick Desmond when his own belt was removed. Desmond struck him across the face again – making Shaun's ears ring painfully, his jaw aching. He barely registered when he was hauled forwards, the tie around his wrists now hanging on another peg, this time one from a rafter just above his head. He had to stand on his toes slightly to prevent the tie from biting into his wrists. Shaking his head, he tried to shake off the spots dancing across his vision, coming to just in time to feel Desmond yank his pants off, letting them pool at his ankles.
"The hell -- " was all he managed before he felt a cool blade pressed against the skin of his neck – a pocketknife. He stiffened slightly, fear gripping him for a moment as Desmond proceeded to shred his suit, tearing off strips with the aid of the sharp knife. His jacket and shirt in tatters, sleeves still intact, Shaun had begun to flush all over in mild arousal. As pissed as all hell as Shaun was, Desmond's rough treatment was turning him on. It became painfully clear what Desmond wanted when a hand slid down his belly, stroking across the base of his cock. Drawing in a sharp breath, he managed a curse, shuddering slightly. "Y-you…c-cunt!" He hissed lowly, gritting his teeth. "That suit cost--"
"Who's the woman now, huh? Worried about your goddamn outfit." The ex-bartender growled. Using the belt he'd taken from Shaun, he observed his prey, eyes lighting up with a mix of lust and amusement. He drew back the belt, using the soft leather end to strike the historian hard across his backside.
"A-ah!" Shaun cried out sharply, not expecting the feel of leather against his poor derrière. A red stripe appeared where Desmond had struck him – and he was about to curse angrily when the belt came down again, across his lower back. It made him arch and hiss in pain. "F-fucking – ah…" his curse trailed off into a light moan when Desmond stroked his cock in a gentle tug, contrasting the stinging pain in his backside. He arched towards the touch – hissing in annoyance when the hand disappeared.
"You like that, Shaun?"
"You can take that belt and shove it up your--"
"Are you sure you want to be giving me ideas?" Desmond interjected, interrupting the historian, whose lips pursed and pressed together in a silent scowl. The ex-bartender laughed at that, pulling back the belt and striking across Shaun's belly now – relishing in the howl of pain he was rewarded with. He hadn't exactly thought himself a sadist before this, but maybe Altaïr and Ezio's preferences were bleeding into him. He liked hearing Shaun yell like that, watching him writhe in agony while his cock oozed precum. "For all your bitching and complaining, you're hard as a rock. Fucking whore." He accused, running the soft leather of the belt over Shaun's cock, making him twitch and gasp.
"D-Desmond…" Shaun hissed out lightly, half wanting, half irritable at this point. He choked back another cry when he was struck again, a red stripe appearing on the inside of his thigh. Distantly, he wondered if this was a skill he'd absorbed from Altaïr – or perhaps Ezio? Which of them would be good with a whip? He filed the knowledge away for later, disbelieving that Desmond himself would voluntarily go out of his way to learn how and where to hit people. Gritting his teeth, he jerked again when he was struck across his chest, just below his nipples. Tears pricked his eyes and he shuddered. That stung. "F-fuck!" he choked suddenly when the man's tongue ran over one of the marks, sending tingles of pain and pleasure up his spine.
Smirking lightly, Desmond pinched at the mark on his chest, his tongue running over a nipple. He bit down hard after a moment, making the bound man howl again, his hips jerking, back arched in a delicious curve. His tongue trailed a little further up, teeth pressing against his jaw line. He nipped at the man's neck, running his tongue over the flesh. He took the lobe of Shaun's ear between his lips, gently biting and sucking for a moment, his breath a hot tickle against his ear. One hand shifted to roughly grope Shaun's backside. "I'm pretty sure you've figured it out already…" He drawled, grinning when he heard a growl from his captive. "…but I'm going to show you who the woman is here." He crooned, giving him a rough grope before drawing his hand back, striking Shaun hard across his ass. He snickered at the yell of surprise he received, pulling away and moving behind the male. He couldn't help but laugh aloud at the handprint that appeared.
"It's a good thing you wear long pants, mm? Wouldn't want the girls to ask questions." Desmond chuckled. He pulled back, hitting Shaun with the belt again. It seemed he'd decided to make it difficult for Shaun to sit down, because the majority of his strikes were aimed at the historian's reddening arse and thighs. Stifling his cries, Shaun bit his lip hard, trying to focus on anything other than the burning pain. The only other thing he could really focus on however was the fact that he was horny as hell.
Another quiet moan escaped when Desmond's tongue ran over a particularly reddened spot on the inside of his thigh, trailing upwards. A choked noise left him when the hot tongue pressed between the soft curves of his buttocks, running over the tight pucker there. He didn't have much time to protest as Desmond's hand curled around his erection, his tongue stroking over the twitching ring of muscle. "G-god…Desmond…" he groaned lightly, arching towards him. He could feel the chuckle against his flesh as the younger male forced his tongue inside, a hand on his hip to keep him from writhing.
Shaun's cock wept, the tip wet with droplets of precum. Sweat beaded on his skin, his face hot and flushed. His feet struggled to find purchase against the ground, his knees shaking, threatening to give out. Frustrated with the damnable teasing, he tugged feebly at the bindings on his arms again. He wasn't even thinking of escape now – he just wanted Desmond to get on with it! He let out a choked noise of surprise as the tie began to come loose, taking some of the pressure off his hands, while making him nearly lose his balance in the process.
Desmond grabbed onto his hips to support him, pulling his mouth away from Shaun, making the historian groan in annoyance. Smirking, he stood, capturing Shaun's chin, even as the brit's hands came down from the ceiling – his arms still bound together by the belt. Even without the aid of the tie, he was still at Desmond's mercy. "You want something?" He asked lowly, biting at Shaun's shoulder, making him hiss in pain.
"Y-yes…damn it all, Desmond! Just fuck me!" Shaun snapped irritably, leaning against the man for support. Shaun's plea earned only a laugh. He pulled away from Shaun, glancing around. He sat himself on an old wooden bench, patting his lap.
"Let's play pretend. You're the cowboy. Or…cowgirl, in this case." He snickered, earning a glare from Shaun. "My dick is the horse. Get on." He grinned at Shaun's exasperated look, though the historian shakily walked to him, straddling his lap. He could feel the bulge of Desmond's cock in his pants. His hands, still bound, fumbled with the buttons of the ex-bartender's shirt, while Desmond's fingers pressed into his mouth, one hand on his hip. "Suck." He ordered lowly.
Wrapping his tongue around the digits to wet them, Shaun scrambled to undo Desmond's shirt as quickly as possible, his hands moving further down to fumble with the button of his pants. He seemed pleased at the moan he earned from the skilled movement of tongue on fingers; damn right he should moan, Shaun had been his lover for a while – he knew Desmond's weak spots. The fingers pulled away a little too quickly for his liking, but he moaned when they pressed against his entrance, two slowly pressing in, stretching him.
Shaun shuddered a bit, stifling a moan as he pulled Desmond's cock from his pants, his fingers wrapping around the thick length and stroking roughly. While it was painfully obvious who was 'in charge' here, it was still a struggle for dominance, both trying to make the other lose control. Shaun would groan and hiss as Desmond fingered him, fingers roughly pressing his prostate – and Desmond would stifle his own gasps of pleasure; skilled fingers making his cock throb with want.
Desmond finally let out a low curse, pushing Shaun's fingers away from his stiff erection. He pulled his fingers out of Shaun, positioning the tip of his cock at the other man's entrance. Grinning up at him, he gently rolled his hips, fingers gripping Shaun's thighs. "Go on. Ride me." He growled, smacking Shaun's ass hard, making him jerk and hiss. Irritated, the historian huffed air out, but slowly began to lower himself down onto the stiff length. His fingers curled against Desmond's chest as his back arched slightly. When he'd taken the would-be assassin to the hilt, he paused, gasping for breath. He jerked when Desmond hit him again, saying nothing – but the strike was enough of a warning for him. Shaking slightly, he gave a slow roll of his hips.
"Yeah…just like that." Desmond hummed appreciatively; rocking his hips upwards as Shaun slowly began to move his hips atop him. The brit choked weakly, riding Desmond a little harder as time passed, tingles of pleasure shooting up his spine. With his weight resting atop Desmond, he could take him deeply without much effort on his part. And Desmond was enjoying every goddamn minute of it.
'Bloody idiot.' Shaun thought dismally, though his thoughts were soon refocused on the ex-bartender when he thrust up into him, forcing a cry out of his throat. He rolled his hips a little faster, his nails digging into the skin of Desmond's chest, making him hiss and buck up again. Shaun hardly registered the fact that his nails had drawn blood – not like he'd care; Desmond deserved it as far as he was concerned. He began to move his hips a little faster, nails digging in harder when strong hands clasped around his neck, cutting off his air supply.
Shaun let out a choked noise, grabbing at Desmond's shoulder for support as the man pounded up into him, his fingers still squeezing tightly, refusing to allow him to breathe. His face slowly grew flushed. He would likely curse Desmond for this later – but at the moment, he didn't care that he couldn't breathe. He was so close to coming, his muscles squeezing Desmond tightly, milking him for his seed, silently begging him to take him harder.
Just as his vision began to grow dark, Desmond slammed into him hard, causing the historian's lips to part in a silent scream. His cock twitched and throbbed before he spilled his seed over Desmond's belly, shutting his eyes tightly. Desmond's grip didn't loosen until he came a few thrusts later, his fingers releasing Shaun's neck, allowing him to cry out hoarsely at the hot spill of fluid inside him. The two of them gasped for breath, the sound seeming deafening in the silence surrounding them.
Shaun leaned heavily against Desmond, his eyes half lidded, throat red with what would likely become bruises. Desmond grinned slightly, stroking Shaun's hair in a somewhat affectionate manner. "So…who's the woman now, Shaun?" He asked lowly, curling his fingers in the man's hair, forcing him to look him in the eye.
Shaun eyed him for a moment, still gasping quietly for breath. Swallowing hard, his voice was raspy as he spoke, a slight smirk coming to his lips. "…Y-You're such a fucking woman, Desmond."