A/N: There wasn't any angst in the last chapter. This must be remedied! Though it is still probably 90 percent fanservice. When will the plot happen? You tell me 8l

Desmond's Friends Are Damn Stupid

Desmond frowned at his computer (which he had finally bought with his own money, thank you! No way he'd let Shaun buy one for him again after the first one quit), and hesitated in typing something.

Shaun walked in with a fresh cup of tea, sipping it lightly so as not to burn himself. "What are you up to?"

Desmond continued his frown. "I haven't talked to my dad in a while."

Shaun raised an eyebrow. "Like how long?"

"A few months."

Shaun raised both eyebrows this time. "Oh, so you still talk to him."

"Sometimes… He still likes to give me shit. But it's easier to deal with that stuff when you're over a thousand miles away and you know it's not true."

Shaun sat down, feigning only half-interest. "What kind of shit does he give you?"

Desmond pursed his lips. "Well, I told him about how I still wasn't done with my degree and he called me a failure. And I don't know what degree I wanted in the first place, so…" He sighed. "I'm just keeping relationships going, I guess."

Shaun frowned into his teacup. "You know, you don't owe them anything. It's not like they gave you anything, or supported you in your decision."

Desmond hesitated. "I know… I just feel like I abandoned them. I could have helped them if I really wanted to, but I ran away."

"You didn't run away." Shaun's voice was firm, but true. "You took control of your life, and left anyone who would hinder you behind. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Do you still talk to your parents?"

Shaun hesitated. "Not much, no. I've got my own life now, and they understand."

"Cool…" Desmond's fingers twitched aimlessly above his keyboard.

Shaun sighed. "If it makes you feel better talking to them, knock yourself out. Eventually they'll accept that you're responsible for your own life, and they'll be glad about it."

Desmond gave a lopsided smile.

Shaun frowned. "It's almost our anniversary again."

Desmond raised his eyebrows. "Wow. I forgot. Shit, how many is this…?"

Shaun continued frowning. "Six… We forgot the fifth."

"Whoops." Desmond chuckled. "Well, last year I was in the middle of an identity crisis, so that might have contributed. Sorry…"

"No matter. It's an odd number, anyway. How do you like Italian?" Shaun was rifling through his planner, looking for the date.

Desmond frowned. "Uh… It's great. Whatever you want, I guess. Why the sudden excitement over it?"

Shaun deadpanned. "Think about it, Desmond. We met six years ago. We have been in a steady relationship—two years of it being long-distance!—for six years. I'd say that's quite a feat."

"I only remember because it was midterms time…" He gave a sheepish grin.

Shaun scowled. "Really, Desmond, you could at least pretend you remembered. Have some tact, man! Anyway… I can book a table at Viva Napoli if you like."

Desmond raised a brow as he smiled. "Sure, if you really want to? I'll go anywhere with you."

Shaun nodded curtly. "Good. Because I love this place as much as I love you."

"Aww, you're making me blush. You like me just as much as you like Carbonara and cheese bread."

"Take that as a compliment. They're damn good."

Desmond laughed. "Well, how about this. I love you more than Carbonara and cheese bread."

Shaun frowned, then scoffed. "Impossible. If you had to choose between me and food, you'd ditch me in three seconds."

"Nonsense."

"Or maybe you'd just eat me."

"I already do~"

Shaun facepalmed. "Should have seen that coming from a mile away..."

Desmond busted out laughing.

They wrote down the reservation date for two weeks later, and decided on 6:30. Then Desmond ran off to his job and proceeded to socialize with his idiots of friends. To be fair, he fit right in with them, and he acted stupid just as much as they did. It was how they survived the nights full of drunken patrons and grinding, monotonous house music.

They had actually convinced Desmond to drink more than usual one night, and he may or may not have gotten on top of the bar once or twice. It was really fun. He fucking loved his job, sometimes.

Flynn offered to drive him home, since he was already sober, and Desmond would probably have difficulty riding a bicycle. Desmond didn't have the will to argue, and he really didn't want to ride anyway, so it worked out for everyone. Flynn told really stupid jokes that shouldn't have been so damn funny, but Desmond was still buzzed and a lot of stupid things were funny. He wondered if Flynn had any video evidence of the night that he'd have to destroy later. But that was for a time when he could concentrate.

He felt his phone vibrate, probably Shaun asking when he'd be home. They were almost there, so he didn't bother checking, yet. Flynn told another stupid fucking joke as they pulled up, and Desmond practically stumbled out of the car, Flynn laughing at him the whole way. Desmond doubled over laughing, trying to tell him to fuck off and get outta there. Flynn pulled the door shut, and with a short "Smell you later!" he drove off.

Desmond was still laughing when he made it in the door, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. He pulled out his phone to see who had texted him. He was right, it was Shaun... with not one but four messages.

18:25

Where are you? It's almost 6:30.

19:00

… You cannot be serious.

19:13

You forgot, didn't you.

And a final one, the one he'd felt in the car: Please let me know if you're going to need a ride, I'm getting tired.

Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as Desmond remembered what day it was. But, Shaun surely would have reminded him, right!? His heart picked up in pace as he rushed into the house, quickly sobering up. "Shaun? You here?"

He heard a mellow reply from the living room. "Yeah, here." Shaun sat on the couch, one elbow on the arm while he read a book. He didn't look up.

Well... At least he didn't seem angry? Desmond walked into his line of sight tentatively. "Hey, um..." he trailed off. There was no excuse. He fucked up. And he didn't even know how to say it. Apologizing wasn't going to fix it.

Shaun still didn't look up. "Did you have fun?"

The weight in Desmond's stomach grew as the shame threatened to consume him. "Yeah, I... It was really busy, and I didn't feel my phone vibrate, and I'm a fucking idiot and I forgot." The last phrase was rushed, like he wanted to get the horrible taste of those words out of his mouth as soon as possible.

Shaun closed his eyes and sighed through his nose in slight annoyance, rolling his eyes behind his lids. "It's fine. Really. I should have reminded you again before you got to work."

Desmond bit his lip nervously. "Um... You reminded me this morning, didn't you?"

Shaun looked up at Desmond, over his glasses. His incredulous look was all Desmond needed to see, and he groaned in response, turning away in shame. "I'm... so sorry. I don't... I can't even say anything to that. I'm an idiot and I'm really sorry." He was begging, and he knew it. He would grovel at Shaun's feet if he needed to, just to stop Shaun from looking at him like that.

Shaun sighed through his nose again. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry. I'm annoyed because you didn't even hear me, and you answered me anyway. You weren't listening."

Desmond bit his lip again. "I know. Now. I know now, because I didn't before. Um... I won't do it again. Promise."

Shaun raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Really."

"Yeah, really." Desmond was going to bite his lower lip off if he kept this up.

Shaun gave him a look that was difficult to read. He looked calm, but Desmond knew he was annoyed. He wasn't getting out of this, was he? Shaun was going to hate him, he fucked up. He fucked up, God, why couldn't he just have remembered this stupid date-

He was so busy freaking out in his own head that he missed the moment where Shaun leaned forward onto his knees and smiled devilishly. Desmond's eyes shot open in surprise, and slight terror. He forced himself to stay calm because, well, Shaun was smiling, right? That was good, right?

Shaun spoke calmly, not letting show any of his ulterior motives. "And how do you intend to make this up to me, Desmond? I waited for you for over an hour. I looked quite the fool."

Desmond's mouth went dry, trying to think of anything, anything he could do to make things right. "Um... Anything I haven't done before?"

Shaun grinned, devilishly. "You get to lie there, and let me do whatever I want. And, you have to make really odd, terrible sounds, very loudly. You might have to sing along with a song I pull up on my phone. And it has to be loud. I want my neighbors to hear. I want them to be embarrassed."

Desmond felt like his head would explode from the pressure. "Th-That's cruel to your neighbors."

Shaun continued to grin. "And it will be all your fault."

Des whimpered. He could do this. Anything for love, right?

So. That was one thing that Shaun would never, ever let him live down. Okay. Desmond tried not to burn with embarrassment every time he saw their neighbors. Tried, and failed. Anyway, Shaun had one thing that he merely had to mention in order to cripple Desmond with embarrassment.

He couldn't stop thinking about how that couldn't have been enough. Shaun would use that to embarrass him, only because he felt hurt by what Desmond did. Or didn't do. Which was remember a stupid date. Ugh. So Desmond made it a task to find out something else he could do to apologize, and show that yes, he really did care about Shaun, a whole fucking lot, and he was willing to work a little harder to make this apparent.

He couldn't really think of anything that would make a big impact until Shaun started coming home exhausted from his two university jobs. Apparently there were at least 500 million more faculty meetings and endless stress because accreditors were visiting, determining if certain degree programs were being taught correctly and according to standards and protocol. It was infuriating because these educational "professionals" had no fucking clue how to teach these classes, and yet they felt they had the authority to judge the performance of professors and their material.

Or that's how Shaun had put it. Desmond hadn't really noticed anything at his university. He expected that he'd encounter one of these people sooner or later, walking into his class to observe the lecture. It didn't sound fun. Anyway, the point was that Shaun was coming home sometimes later than Desmond would, exhausted and irritable. Desmond knew that if there was anything he could do to ease this, Shaun would probably be grateful.

And so, he planned.

On a night when Shaun was running particularly late, driving home from a late meeting at his other university, Desmond readied himself. It was long past midnight, and Shaun was probably planning to just flop into the armchair and doze off until his neck hurt, then go to bed. But of course, Desmond had a slightly different plan for him.

Shaun came in at 12:52 A.M. Looking rather worse for the wear. His shirt was rumpled and his tie pulled down away from his neck, his hair looking like he'd run his fingers through it countless times throughout the evening. He turned to the door and locked it without a word, as Desmond hid quietly in the hallway.

Shaun sighed in exhausted frustration, and plopped his bag down next to the chair, not even caring to take it to his desk as he usually did compulsively. He sank down into the chair, and didn't move again.

Desmond crept over, tentative. It was absolutely imperative that he got the feel right, because if Shaun wasn't in the mood for his plan then he'd just get annoyed. And that would be the exact opposite reaction that Desmond wanted. He walked normally then, so as not to startle the other man. He spoke quietly. "Hey, babe."

Shaun did nothing in response, just sat there with his eyes closed. Desmond waited a little before prodding more, so Shaun wouldn't think he was nagging. Hopefully he would be too tired to care. "How was your day? You barely texted at all."

Shaun frowned, and grunted in response. Desmond chuckled. "That bad, huh? Well..." He had to word it right, he had to sell it. "Would you be opposed to a massage?"

Shaun's eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes cracked open. He turned his head a little to look at Desmond sitting on the couch. He sat there for a few seconds before speaking. "What do you want?"

Desmond tried not to overdo it. He resisted the urge to act overly melodramatic and say something about how hurt he was that Shaun thought so low of him. Instead, he merely chuckled and smiled. "Nothing... I just thought you might enjoy it after a long work day. Unless your department secretary gives you massages, then you might not appreciate it as much."

Shaun frowned incredulously. "No, she doesn't." He groaned at the exertion. "I... don't know. I'm tired."

Desmond hummed in response, and got up slowly to walk over behind the armchair. "And I know the perfect way to put you to sleep. You won't have to do a thing, just sit there."

"I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep right here. Then I'll wake up with a neck ache."

"Well," Desmond replied. "I'd just have to carry you back to the bedroom, then. What do you say?" He didn't even wait for a reply before sinking his hands down to Shaun's shoulders and squeezing them firmly,

"I don't think you can oh-" Shaun winced at the pressure on his aching muscles, but soon groaned under Desmond's hands. "You didn't- let me finish..."

Desmond gave a low chuckle. "You don't look like you want to."

Shaun groaned again and continued, "If you stop, I will get up and strangle you. It will be painful, but I will do it."

"Relax, just let my fingers to the work."

Shaun probably hadn't consciously noticed in his sleep-deprived and frazzled state, but Desmond had adopted that same low tone of voice that drove him absolutely crazy. Desmond hoped it would have the same effect, in this case.

Shaun did shut up, either from Desmond's tone or from exhaustion. Shaun was a very reserved person, and he rarely let himself loose. But Desmond's hands were working quiet moans from him, probably aided by his inhibited brain. Desmond worked his way across Shaun's shoulders, up his neck, and finally down onto his shoulder blades, reducing the man to putty under him. He smirked.

He really enjoyed doing that.

Shaun cracked open an eye when he realized that Desmond had stopped. Desmond had moved in front of him, and was removing his tie gently. "Why'd you stop...?" His speech was a little slurred, as if Desmond had managed to relax Shaun's ability to speak as well.

Desmond only smirked, and continued to speak in that deep, smooth tone. "Just relax. Whatever happens, I'll take care of it."

Shaun blinked. "Whatever happen—mph!" He was silenced as Desmond pressed their mouths together. Desmond held Shaun's face steady so he could control how deep they went, in case Shaun went too fast. There was no comfortable way to do this other than sit on Shaun's lap, but he wasn't sure the man would appreciate that just yet. He sat on the arm and held himself up with his other hand while he held Shaun's face and kissed him.

Shaun moaned against his mouth and went to grab Desmond by the hair. Desmond took his hand and pulled it away, breaking the kiss. "Hey, relax. You're tired, remember?" When Shaun gave a grunt of frustration, he kissed him again, more forcefully. Then he pulled away and stood up.

Shaun made a low noise of objection. "What are you doing?"

Desmond smirked as he knelt down in front of the chair. "Gonna massage your legs."

Shaun swallowed, frowning. "If you do that, I'll get a stonker, and you'll have to take care of that, too."

Desmond's smirk didn't falter. "You make it sound like I wouldn't enjoy that."

Shaun's eyebrows rose a fraction. Desmond continued to smirk as he reached to undo Shaun's pants. The voice was working.

Shaun stammered weakly, "A-Ah, you can't mean to do that here, in my chair? I like this chair."

Desmond chuckled. "No, we'll finish in the bedroom. Your chair will be left pristine as your ass, my prince."

A puff of hot air blew past Shaun's lips as he frowned. "What are you on about?" His voice was airy, labored.

Desmond pulled Shaun's belt away and threw it behind him. "Just enjoy it, okay?" He chuckled, and pulled Shaun's pants open, but pulled away and pressed his fingers into Shaun's thighs.

A moan escaped Shaun's throat and he gasped. He hadn't expected that. Desmond was always one step ahead of Shaun's hazy mind. This was gonna be easy. He pressed his hands firmly, but not too hard, and moved them up and down Shaun's thighs, working out the tension and aches from sitting too long. Then, he worked his way towards the tops of Shaun's legs, the crease where the thigh met his hip, and he leaned in and breathed hot air against Shaun's clothed erection.

Shaun moaned louder, his jaw slack. "Whatever you're doing, get on with it-!"

Desmond made sure not to feel defensive. For this to work, he had to make it seem like that wasn't even an option. He was in charge. "You wanna finish this in the bedroom?"

Shaun rolled his eyes, and looked down at Desmond with a very unfocused, annoyed look. "Yes, what else would I be talking about?"

Desmond smirked up from Shaun's lap. Shaun swallowed again. His usual biting demeanor wasn't working. Desmond answered. "You want me to finish you off? We haven't even gotten started."

Shaun stared at him through heavy lids, hit breath hot. "What are you doing?"

Desmond smirked. "Here's what I propose: I take you back to our room, and finish this massage. Then, when you can't handle it anymore, I take it a little... further. All you gotta do is lie there."

Shaun frowned. "Further?"

Desmond stood slowly, and leaned over to kiss him again. He broke away just far enough to speak. "I'm gonna massage you until you scream."

Shaun's breath was hot and unsteady against Desmond's mouth. "You, want to..."

Desmond hummed in response. "Well. You could refuse, I guess. But then I wouldn't get to finish you the way I want. But if you're uncomfortable with it..."

Shaun gave a short, humorless chuckle. "It's hardly my first time."

Desmond raised his eyebrows, stroking Shaun's jawline. "Well?"

Shaun swallowed again. His mouth was dry. "... Sure."

Desmond grinned wickedly. "I'll be gentle, my prince."

Shaun growled and pushed him away before moving to stand on unsteady legs. "Hurry up, before I change my mind."

Desmond smirked as he led Shaun back towards the bedroom. He'd make sure the man could walk the next day, of course. Just barely.

A/N: Just for clarification: Yes, Shaun was bottom. He got a VERY thorough massage, indeed. And I'm terribly sorry, but I seem to have realized a very important fact about myself: I cannot write smut I just can't do it Dx This was going to be a smut scene but I just... can't. I hope mediocre make-out scenes and implied sexy times are enough for my audience.

In other news, I'm pretty sure there will be ONE MORE CHAPTER. I guess it's plot time huh? I could only put it off for so long, heheh. Anyways, it's 2:50 AM and I hope this looks okay when I wake up, because I wrote 2/3rds of it all in one go. HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT.