Ties

Gazing at the ceiling, Shaun swallowed, and tried to roll over onto his side.

His arms were tied above his head. He squinted in the darkness, looking up at the headboard. His wrists were tied to the bars.

Swallowing thickly, he tried to push his shoulders up away from the bed, until a hand pushed him back down, a mouth pressing to his collarbone.

"Desmond?" He asked, squirming. The blurs shifted, and lips met his own, the kiss slow and careful.

Gasping as hands travelled down his side, the British man fought not to arch up. "Desmond, what are you doing?" He whispered, trying to pull away.

"Non sia spaventato, io appena vogliono giocare..." Desmond replied quietly. Shaun pushed his head back against the pillow, and groaned.

"You think I'm Da Vinci again. Shit..." He moaned as lips closed over his throat, and Desmond carefully began to unbutton his pajamas, following the exposed flesh with kisses and small nips.

Fighting the urge to whimper, Shaun blinked hazily at the large blurs. He arched up as Desmond slid lower, kisses peppering his stomach.

"God...ah...shit, what's the Italian," Shaun swore, bucking up. "Sme...ah shit...smetta di prendere in giro!" He cried, his voice rising into a shriek as a tongue licked at his stomach.

"Benissimo, il mio amore," Desmond whispered, pulling down Shaun's pants. Something made the Englishman gasp, as Desmond loomed over him.

"A-attesa!" Shaun hissed, bucking away from firm hands. He mentally applauded his own ability to remember Italian under the circumstances, and gazed at the shifting blur. "Fuck...Preparilo, idiota, nonlo...dan...shit, what's the word...danneggi ancora?" He tried, and exhaled when Desmond nodded, and slowly lowered his hand.

"Naturalmente, Leonardo, ti amo." The American whispered, his other hand caressing Shaun's throat. Lost in the pleasure of being fondled and reassured, Shaun bit back a cry, his head tilting into the assassin-in-training's shoulder.

"Now...take me now..." He couldn't remember the Italian anymore, but he leaned up for an urgent kiss, their mouths clashing together heatedly. Something pressed into Shaun's body, causing his head to tilt back, and a long, low moan to escape his throat, his eyes fixed blearily on Desmond's face.

The novice assassin moved, his hips jerking in a long, hard thrust. Shaun gasped, his wrists straining against their bonds. He pressed his hips as hard as he could down towards Desmond's, his eyes sparking with white.

"Shit, Des..." The moan left his voice in a small, strangled voice, and Desmond went stiff, Shaun hissing as heat bloomed inside his body. After a moment, the assassin fell on top of the helpless historian, who blinked, all thoughts of pleasure slowly drifting from his mind.

"Oh, that's really fucking sweet...goddamn it, untie me!" Shaun shouted, trying to kick Desmond's heavy body away. "You careless Italian-American prick, how can you leave me high and dry!?" He kicked again, feeling a small victory when the other man fell too close to the edge.

Desmond rolled off the bed, sitting up with a bleary expression. "Shaun?"

"Aw, isn't that sweet, the sleepy assassin just woke up. Get me out of these bindings, Desmond, before I fucking kill you!" Shaun's voice went from honey sweet to hysterical and enraged.

Desmond scrambled up onto the bed, his face flushing. "Shit, I was Ezio again, wasn't I?" He blinked at the bindings, biting his lip. "Dammit, Shaun, why do you let me do this?"

"Well, it's a little bit kinky, to be honest. Get me untied so I can pound you into the fucking bed."

Desmond froze, his gaze wandering down. "Didn't you...?"

"Oh please, you act so juvenile. No, I didn't come, whatever you were reliving as Ezio ended. Now untie me."

Desmond reached across to switch on the lamp. "I...where did Ezio learn to tie knots? I can't even figure out what he did here." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"What?" Shaun asked, beginning to panic. "Don't tell me I'm stuck here!?"

"Shit...you mind losing two ties?" Desmond asked, trying to examine the fabric. Shaun shook his head.

"Get me the hell out of them!" He yelled, as Desmond ran into the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors.

Lucy, who had been on her way to grab a glass of water, turned around, her eyes closed to try and save her own eyes, and Desmond's modesty.

"I don't even want to know..." She murmured, ignoring the yelling from Shaun for Desmond to hurry the fuck up.