Counter

Humming quietly to himself, Shaun Hastings pulled a ready meal out of the shared freezer. He tore his gaze away from the papers he was reading to inspect the packaging, before pulling a face in disgust.

*Who eats microwaved omelettes? That's just nasty.* He replaced the ready meal, before pulling out a sweet and sour chicken meal.

"You'll do." He muttered, setting his paper down on the nearby countertop, and undoing the cardboard sleeve, while reaching for a fork. He stabbed the flimsy clingfilm a few times, before placing the plastic tray onto a plate, which he placed into the microwave.

Stabbing a finger at the buttons, Shaun sighed, and picked up the paper, scanning a few lines again.

*Abstergo are trying to buy out as many companies as possible, they regard the loss of Miles as a very big setback, as well as the Bleeding Effect's unwanted side effects.*

An eyebrow raised, and Shaun glanced up, his eyes locking on Desmond.

"Desmond?"

The trainee assassin looked out of breath and angry, as though he'd ran a long way. Shaking his head to dismiss the other's appearance, Shaun sighed.

"I'm just making something to eat, you want something?" He asked, turning back to his paper.

Hands slammed Shaun back against the counter, the Englishman staring in horror.

"Desmond? What the fuck is your problem?"

The assassin muttered something Shaun didn't catch, and pressed forwards, his mouth pressing hard against the Historian's, who leaned back, his spine pressing painfully against the edge of the counter.

"Des, stop, what are you doing-?" Shaun swallowed, as a hand pushed his shirt up, and Desmond glared hard into Shaun's eyes.

They were gold, not hazel.

"Shit." Shaun pushed hard at Desmond, and tried to turn away, his heart thumping. *Just once I'd like it to be my boyfriend who jumps me. Not Altair, not Ezio, but Desmond.* Shaun thought bitterly, as a hand grabbed the back of his sweater vest, and pinned him down over the counter.

Right arm twisted up behind his back, Shaun fought the urge to swear as his pants were yanked down savagely, his left hand fighting to push up away from the worktop.

"God freaking dammit, Desmond, stop it!" He yelled, frantic. A mouth pressed close to his ear, and Desmond's voice hissed into his ear

Unable to catch the language, Shaun shook his head, his teeth gritting together. "I'm getting really sick of this, asshole." He breathed, trying to push his body up.

Desmond snarled in return, and began pushing forwards, wringing a cry of agony from the man pinned beneath him, who groaned, his cheek pressing against the heated surface of the counter. Panting heavily, Shaun tried harder to push away, his back almost on fire.

"Malik..." Desmond groaned, his head thrown back in bliss. The Historian exhaled, trying to force himself to relax, as Desmond thrust into him, hard, painful thrusts, muttering angrily.

"Desmond, stop it..." He whimpered, fresh pain flooding through him as the man above him leaned down, and bit down hard on Shaun's neck. Wincing in pain, Shaun tried to relax, his body aching and stiff.

Desmond hesitated. Shaun groaned as Desmond pulled away, his fingers slipping from the other man's wrist.

Shaun slipped down from the counter, falling to sit next to the other man's form. He blinked, chest heaving, at Desmond's face.

His cheeks were soaked with tears. Shaun bit his lip, and leaned forwards, gathering the assassin in his arms.

A loud sob escaped Desmond, and he tried to pull away. Shaun clung tighter, his fingers digging into his shoulders painfully.

"You aren't going anywhere, Miles. You started this, you finish it." Shaun hissed, ignoring the low sob.

"But...I...Shaun...I r-raped you..." Desmond hiccuped, falling slack. Running a hand through copper hair, the Historian shrugged, half-smiling.

"Rape, sex I didn't know I wanted...same thing. Look, I dont care. I knew about this when we started sleeping together, if I were uncomfortable with it, I would have told you after the first time when you threw me over the couch and fucked me senseless."

Desmond stifled a laugh, and Shaun smiled, before looking up. "Ah, shit. My food. I'll have to reheat it now."

Straightening up, Desmond nervously redid his pants, his eyes downcast. "Anything I can do for you?"

Shaun jerked a thumb at the kettle, and slowly heaved himself upright. "I need a cuppa. Get the kettle on while I sort myself out."

Desmond nodded, and, half-smiling, set a cup down next to the kettle. "We really do have a fucked relationship, don't we?" He mused, turning around.

Shaun lunged at him, pressing their mouths together in a violent kiss, Desmond melting into the counter as Shaun forced him to submit, pulling away only when it got too hard to breathe. Desmond shivered, his eyes flicking to Shaun's emerald gaze.

"It's nice to kiss you, once in a while, Des. We should do it more often." Shaun smiled breathlessly, and Desmond laughed, as Shaun stabbed his finger at the microwave again.