"I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for realizing
That feeling, you know the one."
Fucking hell.
It has been proven impossible to make yourself not think of something. Like no matter what you do it will be right there waiting for you. Still, we're the foolish idiots that pretend nothing is there, even though its fucking right out in the open. It never works.
Wow, I have fucking issues.
All I can say to you is this: If something is up your ass, think about it. Don't shrug it off. It /will/ piss you off. Believe me, I know.
But of course, what do I /really/ know? I'm 17 and out on my own. My parents called me an idiot for leaving the protection of the creed . As soon as I was old enough to crawl I was slammed into the life I'd watched my family through my infant eyes and the prick Ezio was always there to remind me of everything.
It wasn't the fact that Ezio was a dick, which he was. It was the fact that he couldn't get the italian out of his mind.
A hand grasped Desmond's shoulder and nearly made him spill the shot of vodka in his hands. "What the fuck?" Then he saw him. The dick himself. Ezio. He slammed the glass on the bar's countertop and turned back to him.
"Is that /really/ what you have to say to me?" Ezio inquired taking the drink for himself. He eyed him with a cocky glint in his eyes.
Desmond rolled his eyes. "Considering you're an asshat? Yes. I do what I please and I don't need your ass telling me what i can and can't say you a-" His sentence was cut short when Ezio dragged him through the grinding crowd and out of the bar. "You ass!" He growled."In case you haven't noticed, that /is/ my job!"
Ezio kept his grip on his wrist, lowering his hand to wrap around his fingers and Desmond pretended not to notice. " You can deal with your pathetic new life issues later. We have a problem."
Of fucking course.
The second they were outside he twisted out of Ezio's reach, only to be shoved flat up against the wall.
"What the fu-"
"Non ti muovere." He murmured, pressing his body fluidly against the other.
"Y-you son of a-"
He was cut off by Ezio's silver tongue down his throat, not even bothering to testify. Desmond moaned into his mouth, that skillful tongue quickly disarming him, while those hands, trained in the arts he knew so well sunk lower and lower, moving from pinning his forearms to the wall, to his waist,to his hips...
It hadn't even crossed Desmond's mind that he'd lost his jeans and the italian was slowly diving lower, but those scarred lips kept him hypnotised, wanting more and as obediant as pet would be. Then, when it seemed as though he couldn't be surprised anymore, Ezio's hands clasped around his hardening, kneading...
...
...
Desmond woke up in a cold sweat and breathing heavy. Never in his life had he woken up so hard..except for the time...never mind he didn't want to think about that..Last night couldn't have all been a dream...could it?
He glanced over at his alarm clock. 6 pm. How the hell long did he sleep?
Trying something new guys. Let me know how it is. Never really written smut or AC fanfiction except for in notes but hey, it may work lol