Sometimes when he woke, he laid in bed and thought he was Ezio. But whenever he had been Ezio he never saw it the same. Ezio's gaze, his taste, his sense of smell coloured Italy like it was home. And so when Desmond entered Ezio's memories, it was Desmond's home too. Now it was his own eyes and it looked different.
After a month, Desmond had given up on ever seeing 2012 again. And after a long journey out of Florence, he took up in Monteriggioni. Before the Villa Auditore brimmed on the horizon, he met two riders on the road. Ezio and Mario Auditore. Ezio was smaller than Desmond expected, dishevelled and bearded on his steed. Desmond was taller and broader.
Ezio and Mario had decided Desmond was English, who formed his half assed story in broken Italian. Mario didn't really pay him mind, though he thought it was funny how Desmond looked like Ezio. But when Ezio heard the name 'Desmond' it all seemed too much a coincidence to be anything other than a miracle. And Ezio declared they would take Desmond with them.
At the Villa, Ezio put him to work as a servant. He got a bed in the servant's house just outside the garden. Claudia too thought it was funny how much Desmond looked like her brother and had been looking for someone new. SInce Desmond was so sturdy they welcomed him. They were family after all, and if you couldn't rely on family, who could you?
Ezio occasionally tried to interrogate him, or speak with him of Ezio at all and Desmond had neither the courage in his Italian nor himself to explain. The other servants spied on him, but he got the impression Ezio didn't mistrust him and it was probably one of the other Auditores who told the servants to spy. After long days cleaning, cooking, serving the Auditores Desmond laid in bed thinking about the future. The last thing Desmond remembered before was getting in the truck with Lucy and lying down in the animus after they fled the scene from Warren's attack. Oh Lucy; they probably weren't ever going to meet again.
Some weeks after he arrived, Desmond plucked up the courage to go to Ezio's room. It was bigger than any bedroom Desmond had ever had, or that shitty apartment he had when he was a bartender. On the floor were red and gold Turkish carpets. Candles gave the room and orange glow. One the side of the room had a bed, settee and dressers, the window shutters were closed. In the middle, in front of the door was a desk, with piles of books and scrolls and near that was a table with four chairs. While at the far side were shelves of books and a lounge where Ezio was on a red sofa, reading. The windows there were open, overlooking Monteriggioni and the fields of Tuscany. The sun was setting.
Ezio looked up with those brown eyes of his. His grecian nose and full lips - that scar cutting its way through his beard over them (which had a few grey hairs on the chin). He and Ezio shared that scar. He already closed his book, before Desmond spoke.
"You look just like me," Ezio murmured. He liked to say this. Desmond guessed he didn't get to see his reflection much. And he was a bit of a narcissist. Since he was Ezio, Desmond couldn't blame him. Since he only had his thin, white underclothes on, he was almost flirting.
"I got to tell you something Ezio," Desmond said. "About where I'm from."
"Of course, Desmond."
They sat at the table which had four chairs around it. Desmond tried his best to describe in a way Ezio would understand. That he was raised by the Assassins in 'England' (that was were everyone had assumed he was from) and he worked with them against the Templars. They had strange technology which allowed him to see Ezio's life because they were trying to find Minerva and the Pieces of Eden. But those people were long gone. Desmond lied and said the templars killed them and the technology was destroyed.
"In a way, I was there when Minerva said my name to you. I know everything about you, except what's going to happen in the future. She spoke to me through you because of this technology."
Suspicion was in Ezio's gaze. "This technology, how does it work?"
"It was like a bed. I laid down in it and I saw you."
"Is it like the Piece of Eden? Or the moving painting of Minerva?"
"Maybe." Afterwards Desmond thought he should have said yes.
"And you saw me?"
"I saw everything about you. I learned everything about you. About your life, about how you feel. I know everything about you there is to know."
"I don't…" He didn't want to believe. "Can you prove this to me?"
"Should I tell you about your family, or Leonardo? You lived with them in Florence. You collected feathers for Petruccio to remember him by. Or Christina? You used to sneak into her room every night. Maybe the way you were betrayed and hunted by the Pazzi? Before you personally avenged them."
"Claudia could have told you…"
"Do you really think she's that stupid, Ezio? Or that she knows everything? I could go on. I know things about you that you've never told anyone."
"Like what?"
"Like how you want to be treated."
"And how do I want to be treated?"
Desmond swallowed. "You want to be used, like a whore or worse. You want to be treated like a dog. Like a toilet."
In a flash, Ezio was on his feet. "Bold things to accuse me of, you son of a bitch!"
Desmond said nothing.
Ezio's voice wavered. "H-how do you know these things?"
"The technology-"
"Technology! Are you a 'god', like Minerva? A thing that is not human!"
"You've seen the Pieces of Eden. You know there's weird shit out there. But I am human. I want to help you. With the Pieces of Eden and with the Templars. And with how you feel."
Ezio didn't take a seat, but his breathing slowed a bit.
"Your feelings are never a bad thing," Desmond began, like a damn highschool PSA. He had no idea how to comfort an upset, five-hundred-year-old Italian. "Even if God, or society or your parents tell you it's wrong. It's not."
"An easy thing to say."
Desmond thought a moment. "I mean, you know about Leonardo right? You know he's… a sodomite?"
Ezio gave him a truly disgusted look. "Why would you say that about him?"
"I know you know about him being with men."
"I do."
"This is the same. Leonardo isn't hurting anyone being the way he is."
"It isn't the same. Leonardo is Leonardo. And I'm…"
"You're Ezio."
"I do not know what to think of all this. You will tell me all you know of the Pieces of Eden! But-" Ezio tried to be threatening, but he was totally all over the place.
"That's okay. I'll go."
Desmond left Ezio at the table, to sturr his thoughts.
Not two days later, after Ezio had been avoiding him around the Vila, a boy arrived to take Desmond up to Ezio's room to, of all things, dine. Two plates of spaghetti steamed on the table. Pacing around his big room, Ezio played with his cuffs. He wore black leggings and a white waistcoat, his ponytail tied with a red ribbon. Before Desmond could thank the serving boy, he had closed the door behind him leaving Desmond to take the heady air of the room.
"No matter what," Ezio began. "I must hear what you know Desmond."
Desmond, feeling a little underwhelmed, tried to tell him as best he could about what he knew of the Ones Who Came Before, but Ezio raised his hand minutes into his monologue.
"No. I cannot think of this." Desmond appreciated it because ultimately he knew fuck all. "I have heard this before from you, yesterday."
"I don't know anything else really. I told you everything."
"You did," Ezio decided. "And... you were right. I want twisted things. Badly. Sick, sinful things. I was angry with you for things that are within me. It was unfair of me."
"Okay." Desmond paused. "But I gotta ask what exactly you want, Ezio? The Templars want twisted things."
"I'm not a Templar."
"Yes. We're Assassins. Templars would punish you for even saying what you want. So say it." Desmond didn't know when he came to this revelation, but it was coming out. If he was going to be with Ezio, then he basically had to be an Assassin.
"You know…"
"Say it."
Ezio stopped, then took a breath to force the words out, in an almost whisper. "I want to be used like a whore. Like a dog. And like… and like a latrine." He winced at himself. "I am a pathetic, dirty, old man. Why do I feel this way?"
"You're not pathetic, Ezio."
"Then I am a dirty, old man, yes?"
"I suppose." For his time. Their time. "I don't know why you want it. Why does anybody want anything? But… if you want I can help you. You don't have to deal with this alone."
"What do you mean?" Ezio said. "Even courtesans would not want to be as low as I want to be."
"There's people out there who feel the same." Desmond wasn't an expert in weird sex shit but if there were people in 2012 into that, then there were in 1500. "And... there's me. If you want me to treat you how you want me treat you right."
The wheels turned in Ezio's head for a minute before he murmured slyly, "You look just like me."
And Desmond supposed he did. Whatever magic Minerva, or whoever, wielded to bring him to Ezio it was the kind of miracle he wasn't inclined to question anymore.
"Alright." Desmond tried to stay calm, but felt energized. Over five hundred years he'd found him. The thick lashes of his deep brown eyes shiny in the candlelight. And his sophisticated taste, the drawl of his Italian - holy shit. Ezio was the handsomest man who ever lived. The perfect man to do things to. Desmond's cock slowly rose. He had that hollow, sort of hungry feeling in his mouth when he needed a cock in his mouth. (He got it alot at Abstergo. I mean who was he supposed to blow back then? Vidic?) Instead he put his tongue between Ezio's lips.
"If you want to be a latrine, then you want me to go whenever I gotta go, right? And you'll be there? To drink my piss? To eat my shit? To clean out my asshole?"
"...Yes..." The way Ezio breathed it did something to Desmond and he shoved his tongue in Ezio's mouth again. Giving into Ezio made Desmond full up inside.
"Late at night, I try my piss sometimes," Ezio confessed onto Desmond's lips, "And my shit. I tasted it. But I always stopped myself going further-"
"I know! I've seen what you've done. it. I felt it. I tasted it. I smelt it. I've felt every single thing you've ever felt."
That shut Ezio up. Before Desmond pushed him away, took his off his tights, and lept (assassin acrobatics courtesy of the bleeding effect) atop the table right above the still warm spaghetti. He squatted and let out a fart. "You want to be treated like a toilet? Then eat this!" Spurting out some piss onto Ezio's face, Desmond shat a fat turd, which landed atop the spaghetti sauce.
If Ezio had been a self-respecting Italian, he'd have cussed Desmond out for desecrating the meal, but he watched with pee droplets on his face and chin, awed, as Desmond stood. Desmond was half hard and pulling on his dick as he told Ezio as he got off the table, to shove Ezio's face in the spaghetti. "Go on then, dog, eat my shit."
Ezio took a bite, tentative, then took a whiff. The whole room smelled like shit. Ezio gnashed on it, buried his face in the shit and the red sauce, Desmond held his arms back. He savoured his bites, hummed in pleasure, playing with the yellowy brown stools in his mouth, gasps rippled through him blissed out as he swallowed and got to his meal. (The white plates were decorated with engraved flowers.)
Desmond was so hard, rubbing his dick, along the scar of his circumcision, he pressed against Ezio's back and between his thighs. Desmond was busting a bit and drew Ezio away from the shit to the ground before him, "I need a pee, you know what that means?"
"You must use me, please," Ezio said, under Desmond's grasp and opened his mouth. Fuck that stinking shitty maw, Ezio yellowed teeth from the shit, some of it was still in there! Desmond angled his hips when he started to piss, a bit of it hit Ezio's white shirt (Ezio tried to catch it with his mouth) and then his neck and chin before finally his open face, fully hard. Desmond's warm stream cascaded a little out of Ezio's lips, but his neck pulsed, he was swallowing. Desmond's piss petered out and Ezio hurried towards it, tonguing the piss hole of his dick before dropping to all fours and sucking the wet floorboards.
"So good, such a good boy," Desmond said, clutching Ezio's wet chin and bringing him in for a kiss. Desmond explored Ezio's dirty mouth with his tongue, tasting vague, medical taste of his piss and shit and smelling it all sharp in his nasal cavity. When he dropped him Ezio rubbed his face against Desmond's loose, hairy balls, sniffing, whining delightfully. He mouthed Desmond's taint before he slunk around, licking up his hairy crack. Desmond spread his ass and felt Ezio kiss and suck over his asshole.
"Mmm, clean my shithole out," Desmond said as he forced Ezio's face further between his cheeks, he fingered Ezio's mouth between his butt before he chuckle and brought the dog back over. Desmond chuckled and reached over to the table, grabbing more shit and fisting it into Ezio's mouth. Ezio gagged through his moans. His eyes were watering.
"Here, now get that crap bowl open." Desmond palmed himself and fingered Ezio's shitty lips before Desmond prodded those lips with his dick and they embraced him. Desmond sheathed all the way in Ezio's his muscles twitching around him, his flaring nostrils buried his Demond's pubes. He choked and sputtered when Desmond granted Ezio's pink, crying face brief reprieves. Desmond sighed and moaned. At a quick pace, he dropped his aching dick into and out of Ezio's mouth to see his browning cock, to fuck that puffy, gasping shitmaw in Ezio's face and the slop inside it. The hairs of Ezio's beard tickling him as he pulled in and out of the warm depths of the throat. The tongue, red, reaching to take it all into that black pit. Ah, ah. A face. The perfect fuckhole. Damned pretty, brown eyes. Open fucking mouth. Desmond's ball's drew up and he palmed himself rapidly, circumcision scar stinging in pleasure. He shot white ribbons over Ezio's, leaky, messed up face, his bared tongue, his wide eyes. Ezio licked his own face and Desmond helped him out. Pushed the pools of cum and other fluids over the landmarks of his nose, cheeks, beard, into his open mouth and Ezio sucked at Desmond's sensitive prick, paying special attention to the scar beyond the dickhead. Desmond felt the waters in his bladder rising and let it loose, Ezio swallowed it greedily and Desmond laughed. So easy.
"You're a good toilet," Desmond said as Ezio took the pee. A mile of cock wasn't enough for him. A gallon of shit and piss was an okay evening.
"I was good, yes?" Ezio asked, his voice rough on Desmond's dick. He always liked to know that after sex.
"Perfect. But we're far from done." Ezio's face lit it up as Desmond manhandled him. He gave Ezio a kiss before he tugged at his clothes. "Get out this shit. You think a dog needs clothes? Or a whore?"
"Never," Ezio said. And moments later the lithe man was naked, his skin olive and covered in dark brown hairs. While he was fully hard his balls were big and loose in their hairy sack, they were longer than his blushing, dark-olive cock. A few scars marked his body, his nipples soft pink nubs on his shallow tits. Desmond shoved him to the bed. It had a red quilt, embroidered with florid gold patterns. Ezio was on all fours, his supple butt, lean and firm. Hair swirled around his buttcheeks and became denser down his crack.
Desmond spread the cheeks, and brushed away the hair to see Ezio's asshole. It was a short slit on the slightly darker skin in his crack. The dark olive skin folded slightly as it descended into his asshole, inside were hints of pink (and hints of shit). Desmond put his mouth over Ezio's crack and started kissing, sopping his wet tongue over Ezio's small asshole. It would hurt, no doubt about it. But the unwashed taste was grainy yet pleasant enough, he preferred the taste of shit to piss. The stink was more of Ezio's musk from his dirty shithole, Desmond got it on his tongue as he pried the skin apart and plunged into the furls. But it was then Desmond heard the movement of Ezio's bowls. The wet fart released itself onto his tongue, and he swallowed the gas.
"You need to go as well? Ezio? Come on then, doggie. Shit for me!"
Ezio sighed and let out another fart (which Desmond caught warmly in his mouth) and a few small grunts before Desmond felt the asshole fluttering, making movement, it opened and pushed out a long thin stream of his excrement. Desmond got a bit in his mouth, and he swallowed it. Shit had a strong taste, reminding Desmond of chemicals, which he never guessed it would taste like. As if nothing natural could taste that way. Desmond stopped eating, and moved to catch it in his hands. As he did, he noticed Ezio's penis letting out a few spirts of pee.
"Oh shit!" Desmond said, dropping his mouth to Ezio's cock.
With his browned hand he delivered the turds to Ezio's ravenous mouth, who accepted the gift readily, thanking Desmond graciously, as his own mouth took Ezio's warm waters. He tried to keep all the piss in his mouth alongside Ezio's little prick, but when Ezio's pee became too much to hold he swallowed a bit. He tasted flecks of something else in the solution, but he could only guess. Ezio might at least have got it back when Desmond needed to piss again. Pee was just a bit of an off colour drink, no worse than warm beer coming from beneath his long Italian foreskin.
Meanwhile, Ezio sucked the yellow-brown from Desmond's fingers. And with the last of his piss drained from his bladder, Desmond went up to pry Ezio's shit filled mouth open and dribbled the piss into that toilet bowl to wash the last of the crap down.
"You'll never have to worry about finding a place to go again. Whenever you need, you just catch that shit and drop it right into your toilet bowl! Perfect system. You even have a flush." (Was that a thing yet?)
"I love the taste of your piss and shit." Ezio took an exaggerated sniff, some shit still streaked his jaw and cheeks, "I love the smell."
The room stunk of it.
But Desmond had a thought, his hands on Ezio's body. His fuzzy butt up like that. Desmond kneaded his asscheeks.
"Will you take me now like a courtesan, please?" Ezio laid on his back, his feet up, begging with those eyes of his.
"No shit," Desmond said, he spat on his dick to stroke it around its scar. Half hard already from the whore's desperate face. Prodding Ezio's asshole with his cockhead, he enjoyed the gentle utterances of yes, the hairy asscrack. He made his way past harshly past the wet sphincter, which they both moaned at, Desmond's glutes clenching to sheath inside. Ezio loudened when Desmond started to move. There was little build up to him pounding Ezio's butt. He wanted to be used. He wanted to be a whore. Desmond knew it too well from being trapped inside him in the animus. He hated that but now it was obvious it was only because of the distance between them. He loved inhabiting Ezio. He dug his fingers into Ezio's face, his mouth, his nose, who sucked on them ravenously. One hand on Desmond's back, the other stroking his own cock, Ezio was humid and crying alongside the slaps of Desmond's skin against his. The flesh of his ass electrifying Desmond's circumcision scar. They'd both reddened in the head they were generating.
Just as Desmond struck Ezio's asshole, he was hit in turn by his heartbeat in from anal walls. It stung pleasurably in that way when you approached your second climax. Desmond held that seed of pressure building at the base of his cock to wear Ezio out. To use him as a whore was used. Desmond stole Ezio's cock from his own hand and worked at it in rhythm with his own in Ezio's ass. His nuts bounced in the pile of their sack, as Desmond hurriedly stroked him, his sloppy foreskin offering brief glimpses of his little, weeping cockhead and the cheese Desmond had tasted when he drank his piss. Encompassing him, Ezio started to climb his orgasm, crooning through Desmond's fingers. The cloak of his flesh trembled around Desmond's cock, his fingers and Desmond pissed a bit. Ezio shot cum onto his chest in five spurts, Desmond wrung it out of him, scooping Ezio's cum and his cheese into his mouth. Stroking his cock long after he'd finished, to Ezio's agony and pleasure.
"You're far from done, slut," Desmond said, as he quickened in fucking him, his muscles were becoming strained. He paused briefly still inside Ezio only to hike it up again. He commanded Ezio to hold his buttcheeks open, and dropped in and out of his reddened, shitty anus as he had with his mouth, Ezio cursing as he went. Much like his mouth, it had begin to puff from the abuse. Ezio's asshole gaped easily, it's insides black but stinking, the ring of his sphincter desperately attempting to retain their shape. Desmond stopped and pulled at the muscles with one hand as he swathed his dick around with his other.
"If only you could see yourself, a fuckhole from one end to another."
Ezio grinned, his face was so messed up Desmond wanted to kiss him. "Use me. I am your whore."
"Then shut up." Desmond grinned as he reentered him. Desmond returned to a faster pace, driving him harder. They moved further along the bed as he pumped Ezio further. Enjoying the easy nerves of his pleasure and touching his warm sides and his hairy armpits. A second cum was often better and his cockhead was really feeling it hard inside, each time Ezio's thighs met Desmond's pelvis. Desmond moaned. Ezio wasn't so loud, only sighing as if in pain each time Desmond's strokes pulsed through him, but they had each other's gaze. Desmond glanced down as he felt something wet. Foreskin drawn back, baring its little bits of white cheese, Ezio was peeing again though this time from getting fucked. Bodies were remarkable things. And they chuckled at each other. It was his face which Desmond loved most of all, his dick scar prickling. His cock prepared for launch and he swore as he shot. Filling Ezio with cum before he brought up Ezio's thighs so his butt was in the air, his cock hanging downward as he might catch the last of his pee, as Desmond again pried open his asscheeks.
"Go ahead, shit it out." Ezio's loose asshole struggled, the blushing, dark wrinkles clenched a few times before it erupted, pushing itself up and the mixture of cum, blood, piss and the remnants of shit into his furry crack. It may as well have been ichor the way Desmond dipped his tongue in its organic flavours, he took it into his mouth and it dribbled into Ezio's mouth. He went back and forth at this a few times, sucking clean the folds of his sphincter, pulling at the muscle. And as Ezio's pushed it from his asshole, the last bit of pee flowed down from his dick into his mouth. Desmond gave Ezio's asshole a final kiss and put his tongue back into Ezio's mouth which had swallowed all that remained of their excess.
Desmond didn't know how long he lost himself, exploring Ezio's mouth. They laid on the bed radiating certainty and a stench they had never before.
Desmond hoped they would come to an understanding, but this? He had to still be in the animus, or he was dreaming. He never imagined the world could be so right.
When they'd stopping kissing and were just lying there, raw, Desmond said: "Is this real?"
"What do you mean?" Ezio said.
"I dunno." Maybe he'd tell Ezio the real truth one day. They were so close. The one final step between them hurt. Desmond enjoyed what he had been to his ancestor, but he wanted a bit of what Ezio got. Maybe one day Ezio would be able to treat him in kind. It occurred to him suddenly that Ezio was his relative and this was incest. But really they were pretty distant. Still, he raised a bit of an internal eye, but disregarded it. It's not like they were hurting anyone.
Afterwards, Ezio called the other servants to draw a bath. They carried in the tub and poured in heated water while, sat at the table, Ezio and Desmond ate their cold spaghetti with knowing smiles. They did not dress, but the servants didn't say a thing. Desmond wondered what this meant. Was he a servant anymore? Would he be a real assassin, finally?
When the servants were gone and the bathtub was steaming, Ezio entered first, and Desmond sat atop him. Ezio closed his wet, hairy arms around him. With the beat of his warm skin, Desmond leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt closer to Ezio than he had ever felt to anyone.
