Desmond jolted awake, tackling the man to the floor and pressing his hidden blade against the skin revealed by pulling the other's hair back painfully.
"Desmond, calm down! It's me!" Shaun said, his hand still on Desmond's shoulder. The Assassin relaxed, retracting the blade and releasing Shaun's head. "You were screaming in your sleep, so I thought I'd comfort you." Desmond nodded, looking a little ashamed. The Englishman supported himself on his forearms, smiling at Desmond. It was rare that he did, and Desmond immediately knew that Shaun wanted something. Occasional rendezvous had been made out of sheer sexual frustration, although they hadn't moved any farther into an actual relationship. "I mean, now that you're awake…" he trailed off, that devilish smile still dancing on his lips.
"You'd comfort me?"
"Well, each other." Desmond sighed, and unbuckled the hidden blade from his forearm. He got up, putting it on the side table. Desmond sat on the bed, looking down at Shaun, who was still on the floor.
"Well, come on!" Shaun leaped up, pulling off his shirt/sweater vest combination. He straightened the glasses that tilted awkwardly, and walked to Desmond, smiling wider. Suddenly, their bodies were pressing together, Shaun on top of Desmond this time. Their mouths met roughly, hands grabbing and tongues tangling, fighting for power. Desmond ended up being on top, pinning Shaun with his body again. Shaun groaned, pushing his tongue against Desmond's and grabbing at the black boxers, pulling them down an wrapping warm fingers around his member. Desmond thrust into the hand, his toes flexing and curling with pure pleasure coursing through the veins. Their mouths met again, messily this time and Desmond's hands latched onto Shaun's scalp, knowing that the Brit was extremely fond of hair pulling. His sensitive organ brushed up against the rough cloth of Shaun's pants, earning a low groan from him. Suddenly impatient, Desmond fumbled with the button and zipper, finally finding success. He opened the drawer of his side table and pulled out a tiny tube of lube. It was all he could procure, given the circumstances. Shaun smiled, pulled the rest of his clothes down and started to stroke himself. As Desmond watched, the man opened his legs, being very submissive. Very unlike him. Usually, the two had to wrestle for the top, biting and pulling and kissing. They liked that dynamic, though. They loved the feeling they got of winning… or losing for both were pleasurable. Desmond stared for a second, forgetting himself.
"Well, come on," Shaun said. "Or I'll start myself." Desmond smiled devilishly and handed him the small plastic tube.
"Please do." Shaun laughed, wetting and slickening his hand. Opening himself more, he circled the tight pink ring of muscle at his backside, using his other hand to stroke himself at the same pace Desmond was. He inserted a finger, pressing it as far as it would go and letting his head tilt back into the mattress. He inserted another finger and began to stretch himself, resting both thighs on either side of Desmond. The Assassin from the Animus grabbed the little tube, spreading a generous amount on himself. He stroked himself twice, admired Shaun and removed the hand from the Englishman's entrance. Shaun pouted with the loss, but his breath was stolen away from him when Desmond sheathed himself with one sudden thrust. Shaun's back arched, his hips grinding against Desmond's suddenly. Desmond smiled, kissing him softly, and holding himself back a little bit so as not to hurt Shaun. The Englishman clung to him, digging his nails into Desmond's back. Their muscles tensed and the two held themselves there, suspended in so many feelings where all of their nerves were standing on edge. Desmond messily kissed him again, slowly sliding out and then back in. All of their muscles screamed out for each other, and Shaun quietly began to babble words like 'move' and 'faster.' Desmond smirked, complying and picking up the speed of his hips. Shaun writhed underneath him, squeezing his legs around Desmond's hips and moving his own. The historian and the Assassin grabbed the Historian's erection, stroking it together. Their hips and bodies were beginning to become frantic, the other hands grabbing. Their breath mingled together and finally, Desmond slammed into Shaun, spilling into the warm body and groaning. The Englishman followed soon after, his seed covering their chests. Desmond slowed, holding Shaun to him. Shaun's hands unclenched slowly, wrapping themselves around Desmond's back. "Oh dear lord, Desmond." The Assassin laughed low, laying next to his and pulling Shaun to his chest. He was too tired to complain. The two quickly fell asleep, cuddling into the next day.