Shaun sighed again. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, feeling the tiredness he had been carrying from the beginning of it all invade him again. He heard a chair behind him rattle on the floor, and he turned his blurred vision to Rebecca, coming to him from the second monitoring desk behind him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, looking worried – as much as he could make out.
"Are you alright?"
The Brit fumbled around sideways until he got his glasses back, then put them on. He couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh before answering:
"Yeah, thank you 'Becca, I'm fine."
She stared at him an instant in worry before wagging her head sideways two or three strokes. She patted his shoulder, while leaning in and locking their glances.
"I know that's not true, Shaun. I know you have been up for the last thirty hours or so. You really should get some sleep."
"What, now?" asked incredulously the Historian.
"Yes, now. While it's still safe to get some."
The redhead looked the other side and fixed his sight on Desmond. He was laying down on one of those strange rocks that invaded the entire bloody place, which was shaped like a bed by a not-so-coincidental coincidence. The miniaturized Animus was set on it and connected to the American, looking like some kind of futuristic helmet. The man was breathing slowly and evenly, not letting out that he was actually running through the Frontier in there. Following his line of view, Rebecca patted the Brit's shoulder once more.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of him."
Shaun sighed, getting up.
"I know…"
The girl backed up to let him stand. She looked at his slightly bent shape, her eyebrows narrowing in worry. She smiled nonetheless to him; she was the only one that still could cheer them all up, after all, was she not?
"Grab some for me too."
The Brit faintly grinned at that pun, one of his biggest displays of joy since they had been down here. With a last worried glance at Desmond and a nibble on his own lower lip, he walked away towards their sleeping spot. Doing so, he passed by William.
"Oh, good. Come here, Shaun."
Without a word, the Historian walked nearer to his boyfriend's father and leaned in over the other man's shoulder to look at the screen of the computer in front of the Miles. Without looking back, the latter began talking:
"See this?" he said as he pointed the picture displayed on the screen. "This is where the third power source is."
The red-haired man got even closer and stared at the half-blurred picture.
"Good. Then I'll get back to Rebecca and-"
"No." interrupted William.
"But…"
"No, Shaun. Time is running low, and we need Desmond in the Animus as much as possible. We can't afford to have him run this errand, while iI/i can perfectly do it myself."
"You mean you'll go ialone/i?"
"Yes. Rebecca is the only technician we have. As for you… you are, to my belief, the only thing that is keeping him in one piece. Were it not for the love he has for you, he would have broken down weeks ago."
The older man sighed.
"I don't like having to rely on someone as much, but I'd like to ask you to do something for me. Keep it secret to him that I went to get the third power source, at least until I get back with it, or I get captured. And if the latter happens… don't let him come to my rescue. Because I know he will want to."
"I can promise I will try, but that's all."
The Brit shook his head, unable to believe that he was agreeing to it. He didn't like to lie to begin with; and now he was going to lie to the dearest person he had in his heart. But he knew deep down it was for Desmond's good. Or at least, he hoped so.
"That will be enough for me" smiled Miles Senior. "After all, whenever you try to do something you succeed."
"Not always, no…" muttered the Historian.
He still remembered when he had first tried to give head to Desmond. It had been so bad that his lover hadn't even gotten hard. But the American had not even looked disappointed. All he had done was reassure the Brit and tell him that he'd learn at some point. The only one that had been depressed by it was Shaun himself.
He held back a yawn, one that William noticed.
"You were going to sleep, am I not right?"
"'Becca forced me to. It seems she's worried I might end up falling asleep on my workdesk or in front of the Door."
That made Desmond's father laugh.
"It would be bad, that's for sure. Alright. I will go prepare some things before going. I'll have left when you will wake up next."
Shaun nodded at those words before he got back to walking to the spot where they had laid down the sleeping bags. He leaned to open his before sitting, then laying on it. He got the top half over him and zipped it up. As he closed his eyes, he started tossing and turning, ruminating.
'How can I sleep when there is so much on my mind? There is Desmond in the Animus, Rebecca, William that will go after the third power source alone… And then I have to lie to Des too. Really, there's just no way-…' And on that last thought word, he drifted into sleep.
He was deep in sleep when he heard a voice call him out.
"Shaun! Hey, Shaun, wake up!"
The Brit only groaned in answer as he winced and turned his back to the voice. But it seemed like its owner was not going to let go so easily. Clothed in the haze of his half-broken sleep, he heard a thud behind him as the person sat down on the floor. A chuckle echoed.
"Come on, I know you're almost awake already. I made you some tea."
Shaun half-opened his eyes at the words, and half-turned his head to look at Desmond, of which he had recognized the voice already.
"Really?" he let out with his morning raspy voice.
The American chuckled silently as he smiled.
"Actually, no."
The Historian let out a long whimper of annoyance at those words as he turned his back to Desmond once more. The Assassin leaned in and went on all four, taking position over his boyfriend. He got his lips close to the latter's ear and murmured:
"…but, I can make you some after."
Then he backed up as a hand came up to rub at the earlobe, in a movement that was intended to be read as one of annoyance, but it was obvious that its sole purpose was to hide the slight blush on the Brit's cheeks.
"Thing is, it's almost dinner time. We got some fresh food for once, so I thought you might want to get up to have a plate."
At those words, Shaun sat up fast and looked at Desmond, a bit flustered.
"Wait, 'dinner time'? How long did I sleep?"
"If I refer to what Becca told me, around 6 hours. I would have let you sleep some more, but I thought you might be hungry."
The Historian scratched his head, a bit reassured.
"Well… thanks."
The American shook his head with a smile at the answer.
"No, no, that's not how you properly thank a lover now, is it?"
The red-haired man turned a questioning glance at his boyfriend upon hearing those words, until he met the other's amused pupils and his eyes locked on the devilish smile his mate's lips bore. Upon seeing both, he understood the hidden message and leaned to leave a small peck on the other's still smiling lips. He looked Desmond in the eye and said 'thank you' with a profound voice.
The American grunted with a mocking grin before he caught Shaun's arm and dragged him closer. He locked his lips on the other's, almost immediately starting to push on the Brit's lips to slide his tongue in his lover's mouth. The permission was granted right away, and they started battling with their tongues, as hands grabbed shoulders to bring them each other closer to the other. Desmond pushed with more power than the Historian, and the latter ended up on his back, with the American on top, snake dancing as they kept on kissing.
After some minutes of this games, Shaun pushed weakly on Des's shoulder to make him move. The other complied immediately, and the red-haired nerd tried to calm down, his breath short.
"Isn't Becca… waiting for us?" did he manage to say as he was sitting back up.
"Hn-…" was the only answer the other gave before getting back to attacking once more.
He gave a last kiss on the Brit's mouth, before he started trailing down the neck, down to the collar bone. He bit it lightly, before sucking and licking, making the red-haired man let out a muffled moan. As Shaun was about to say something else, the American's hand pet his cock with the tip of his fingers, a touch so light it felt like a torture. His voice broke and his mind got covered with fog as he bit his lip not to moan again, this time in want.
"Stop teasing…"
That made Desmond chuckle on the Brit's collar bone.
"Oh, so you're up to it now?"
The Historian grunted as he hit his lover lightly on the arm.
"Am I ever not?"
"You got a point…"
Desmond slid his hand down once more, this time sliding it under his boyfriend's belt and underwear's waistband. This made Shaun arch up into the touch as his breath stopped for a second. That made the American smile devilishly, as he pumped up once, forcing a short, loud, almost surprised moan out of his lover. The cock in his hand hardened noticeably as Shaun flushed some bit. It made the Subject's grin expand even more as he brought his lips closer to his boyfriend's to lock them once more in a deep kiss as he unbuckled the other's pants and brought them slightly down, along with the underwear, freeing the Historian's member.
The American parted their lips, staying over the red-haired man's face long enough for the latter to see his evil smile before he disappeared down. The Brit was starting to lift himself on his arms, when a bolt of pleasure threw him off balance and made him fall back to the floor. He panted heavily as he felt a tongue lick the tip of his erection, making him twitch. Then Desmond descended his mouth on the cock and the Brit's thinking capacities disappeared altogether.
He could only focus on the up-and-down motion and the fact that it was Desmond doing it. He felt every of the other's ever so slight moves, and he had to use all his might to not squirm under the pleasure. He couldn't get to slow his breathing down, which in some tiny spot of his brain annoyed him, as it meant he sounded like he was running a marathon. But the part that was enjoying the action took way too much space to let the tinier part take over.
It took some minutes of the American working and of the Brit groaning, panting, moaning, whimpering and whatnot for the latter to feel the edge drawing near. He tried to voice it up, but all that came out was his lover's name, chanted oh so lustfully.
"Desmond-"
And nothing else, for he released right after. For a second he felt like he had become blind, for all he could see was a white fog. But then his vision came back, and he found himself staring at the roof over his head, with his breathing slowly evening. Desmond went up and looked at him fondly, before extending a hand.
"What about some food now?"
"Sure."
The Historian grabbed his lover's hand and found himself being lifted to his feet. He realized once up that the American had already put his pants up before zipping them. The latter leaned closer as he wrapped his arms around Shaun's waist, the Brit doing the same.
"I'll make you some tea after that. Exactly how you like it."
The red-haired man chuckled.
"Sure. I'd love to drink your imitation of Earl Grey if I don't fall back asleep before."
"Pff, it's not that bad."
"Hm, maybe not-"