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Chapter 4; Drive it Like You Stole it
Talk? Is that what they were calling it now? Desmond swallowed thickly, but nodded because at the moment he didn't know what else to do without seriously injuring the other man.
Shaun sat up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, "I've had this image in my head of you since we met… Since you asked me what all that 'STUFF' was…" He spat that word bitterly. "I was convinced you were a bloody idiot and I refused to see you as anything other than a god like body and a potential for high grade badassery."
"Badassery? Is that even a word?"
"Shut up and let me finish, it's difficult enough without you making me feel stupid… And I KNOW you're smart enough to understand the concept of silence. You've mastered physics and engineering because you were BORED so I'm extremely confident you can close your mouth for fifteen seconds and listen."
Desmond's teeth clacked as his mouth snapped shut.
Shaun took a deep breath and continued. "I'm not stupid, alright? I'm not insignificant, I deserve good things, and I'll damned well fight dirty for them if I must… I've got standards, you see. STRICT standards. If I ever get married it'll be to a woman with red hair the color of a ripe strawberry, brown eyes, pale Irish skin with tiny little freckles, big tits, and wide hips I can really grab on to-" His fingers curled as if he was doing just that, eyes alight. "A woman who can really bruise your pelvis!"
Desmond felt his eyebrows drawing upward warily where he sat practically pinned against his headboard and he wondered again if Shaun hadn't lost his mind.
Shaun continued, a dark ferocity in his eyes, lips swollen from scraping between his teeth, breath ragged; "She'll have a whole fucking houseful of books! Shelves upon shelves of them! She'll have a degree in Literature and write non-fiction for a living. She'll have a little cottage in the country with a thatch roof and wood floors. And a cat, a big furry FAT cat that'll eat rats and chase the goddamned rabbits out of my garden. And she'll make good Minced Meat Pies. REALLY, mouthwateringly GOOD pies! The kind you'd get down on your hands and knees and lick her feet for—"
"Shaun?"
"Can't you be quiet for five se—"
"You're scaring me, man… W-what's wrong… Y-you didn't like, take one of Becca's blue pills did you?"
Shaun blinked rapidly, noticing the confused, unsettled expression on Desmond's face. "No…"
"Is this because I've been spending so much time with Becca?" His eyes became very large; "Oh shit, you two are like-like together aren't you!"
"NO!" Shaun hissed, face scrunched up as if it were the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard. Which in all actuality it was. He barely considered Rebecca Crane human half the time. "I don't care how bloody brilliant you are, you'd have to be pretty damned stupid to think that!"
Desmond shrank back again. "Sorry."
Shaun sighed weightily, irritation dampening the fire he'd been feeding by telling Desmond exactly what he wanted in a woman, and in a round about way why he'd been wrong about Desmond and what he really thought about him.
But, Shaun was never good at being wrong.
It was quiet for a few more seconds, and Desmond shifted uncomfortably; "Is that all?"
Shaun snorted; "No."
"Then what do you want… I was kind of in the middle of something."
"I noticed." He inhaled deeply and let it out in a hiss, bending over his knees again before with another deep breath for courage, he decided the best thing to do would be to just say it.
"I know it's going to sound preposterous, and I can't believe I'm actually going to say it aloud. But you've— You're… I thought you were stupid! If I'd known you weren't I would have—" His hands curled and his eyes slid to the bump in the blankets where Desmond's crotch was. His voice rumbled in his throat and his fingers flexed, words building up in the back of his throat like vomit, and he knew when they came out it wasn't going to be pretty because there was no controlling them. They'd come up and up and up in a never ending cascade, even if they left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Shaun, are you hitting on me?"
He choked.
"Its OK if you're not, but… You're like, pitching a serious tent there and I can only think of two reasons why you'd be this close to me with a pole in your pants, and one of them includes Becca's blue pills."
"Your sense of perception is astounding…" He was less that impressed, but it had gotten the awkward part over with… Thank God.
He swallowed thickly. "I've been pretty much isolated since I was eighteen… I apologize if my social etiquette is lacking. I've not really had much experience."
Desmond seemed to relax a little, though he still looked confused. "Yeah… I guessed as much." He wetted his lips, took a deep breath and let it out. "So –uh—What did you have in mind w-when you came over here… Cause I'm—"
"You're smart, you figure it out."
Desmond made a face as if he were trying to drink cookie dough through a straw and his eyebrows shot to his hairline. Mentally he replayed key points in their conversation. Trying not to remember Shaun's 'Perfect Wife' rant, and focus more on the fact he distinctly remembered the Brit saying he possessed 'a god like body and a potential for high grade badassery.'
"I desire very few things when it comes to men, 'tall, dark and handsome' are a given. But I also want someone who is intellectually stimulating…" He paused, swallowed thickly, and continued; "I've had two lovers… Both of them were gorgeous, but had more teeth than sense, and I swore I'd never subject myself to caring for someone who cares more for themselves and instant gratification than for anybody else or building a lasting relationship ever again." There was a stark bitterness in his voice that told Desmond two things.
One; These past lovers of Shaun's had hurt him more than just physically.
And Two; When they'd met, Shaun HAD been attracted to him, but wouldn't let himself admit or act on it because he feared being hurt again.
"You've got brains and—"
"Badassery?"
"Five seconds… That's all I want."
"Sorry."
Shaun rubbed his forehead; "This is a waste of time…" And he stood to leave.
Desmond just barely caught his sleeve with his left hand and stopped him in his tracks. "Usually when you hit on someone, you ask them out on a date… Then if the date goes well and you still like them, you go out again… After that—"
"Desmond, I've walked in on you in the bathroom after you ate Rebecca's sorry excuse for Mexican Cuisine. I've sat there at that desk night after night listening to you make love to your hand… You've used the toilet while I was in the bloody shower! I think we're past dates."
Desmond swallowed thickly and it was quiet for a long agonizing few minutes;
"So what now?"
Shaun looked down at him with an expression on his face that said it was obvious. "Now?" He paused, tongue feeling thick, embarrassment burning in his veins. "Now I go to my room and see if you follow me… And if you do I introduce you to the contents of my bedside drawer and we go from there." He pulled his wrist free of Desmond's hand and padded past his computer, pausing long enough to turn the monitors off before he strode purposefully, with more confidence than he should have, down the hall to his room.
Desmond counted to five before he followed him.
"There I gave you you're fucking five seconds."
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