djsoliloquy: (these our bodies possessed by light)
DJ ([personal profile] djsoliloquy) wrote2011-07-19 04:08 pm

Sneezes and Other Physiological Responses (Assassins's Creed, Shaun/Des)

LJ is being a jerk. Had to go in and format by hand. Good ol' HTML coding! So, hopefully nothing explodes?


Title: Sneezes and Other Physiological Responses
Author: [livejournal.com profile] djsoliloquy
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed
Rating: NC-17, porn, warnings for substance-induced sex.
Pairing: Shaun/Desmond.
Summary: Shaun starts sneezing for some mysterious reason. And there’s sex.

Notes: Inspired by a kink meme prompt: Sex pollen.



Desmond figured Shaun just had the sniffles. He thought about it for maybe two seconds, wondering if he was getting an early look at his own cold in a week or so, and then he forgot about it.

And then the sneezing stopped. A new set of peculiar symptoms emerged to replace them.

Shaun breathed deeply. “Lucy,” he warned as she swept past him. “It’s allergies, not Ebola, apparently you didn’t get that email? I’m all better now. Don't even notice.”

“It’s worse,” Lucy snapped. “Trouble breathing, cold sweats, light-headedness, rapid pulse, mild arrhythmia… We don’t have the medication to deal with this if you have some kind of anaphylactic reaction, Shaun.”

“You forgot sneezing, and of course it’s going to sound bad when you list them off like that!”

They stopped Animus work and made him sit at his desk after the flushed skin and shivers started. He vehemently refused to rest in his bed for some reason. Desmond leaned in. “Can you even breathe?” he said. “You’re all red.”

“Lobster red,” Rebecca offered.

“Yes, thank you, children,” Shaun said sourly. “I can, in fact, breathe.”

Rebecca looked up at Lucy. “What do you think? He has been getting worse.”

“No, do not start taking unnecessary risks because of this!” said Shaun. “It looks worse than it is. I’m not dying.”

“Aren’t anxiety and confusion both symptoms of some allergic reactions?” Rebecca said, peering into Shaun’s face.

“If your airway started closing up for no reason you’d be a little anxious too, I imagine.” Shaun blinked. “Not that mine is. I can still talk. You can hear that, can’t you? Me talking? Telling you I’m not dying for the hundredth time?”

Desmond sniffed. “Have you ever had allergies before?”

Shaun opened his mouth and closed it again. “Just because I—”

“Then how do you know what to look for?”

“Desmond’s right,” said Lucy. She put a hand to her forehead. “Okay. Desmond, stay with him. We’re going for supplies.”

The second they were gone, Shaun doubled over with an agonized moan.

Desmond almost had a heart attack. “What the fuck, Shaun?” He crouched by the chair before realizing he wasn’t sure what to do. “Shit. I thought you said you weren’t dying!”

“I’m not.” Shaun’s breathing was coming out in pants. “Didn’t want the girls to worry. God. It doesn’t feel like I’m—it’s just, it’s a bit, ah, much. Do me a favor, Desmond, and kindly back the fuck away from me? Thank you.”

Desmond stared at Shaun’s tightly knit forehead, heavy breathing, flushed face. This was bad. Well, it wasn’t any worse than it had been except now Shaun wasn’t trying to hide it and he was clearly either about to die at any moment or die at any moment and then explode. How long had it been this bad, Shaun too stubborn to admit it?

“So what do we do?” Desmond sniffed again, but rubbed his nose and ignored the itch.

We don’t do anything.”

“Lucy will kill me if I let you die on my watch. We should...” He paused, blinking. “We need to get you to bed and, uh, raise your legs, right? Something like that?”

Shaun’s glare promised all kinds of excruciating demise. “I’m not going into bloody shock, Desmond, I’m just—” Another wave of what looked like agony interrupted the belligerent snark. He crumpled against the chair, head thrown back and neck bared as he gasped.

Desmond blinked again, distracted. Something about the twist of Shaun’s eyebrows, the shape of his expression when he winced was wrong, didn’t...

Fuck.” Shaun’s arms shook as he tried to push himself up. “Ah. Alright. I may have been a tad hasty when I said it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

Desmond grabbed Shaun’s arm. The skin burned under the sleeve. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“It feels like I’m going to die in five minutes,” said Shaun in a hoarse voice. “And a little like I’m about to lose my mind. Or explode. I think...I think I might need your help on this one.”

“Oh. Wow. You really are dying. Okay.” Desmond pulled him out of the chair. “Come on. Bedroom.”

Shaun gave a whole-body jerk at that. “No, Desmond—”

“Shut up. As the only man here who isn’t about to explode in five minutes, I call the shots,” he said and dragged Shaun to his bed. He ran back to rinse some washcloths under cold water and when he returned Shaun was flat on the bed and—

Oh.

Desmond swallowed. Now that Shaun was in his bedroom and Desmond saw his symptoms in a new frame, it—well, still didn’t look like allergies, but it didn’t look like allergies in an entirely different way.

Shaun was biting his lower lip, eyes pressed shut as he writhed back against the covers, tossing his head back and forth. One of his hands clenched over his stomach and clawed at his sweater. The other pulled firmly at his shirt collar, wrenching it down from his neck. He hadn’t seen Desmond in the doorway yet, and was making these small open-mouthed moans.

Definitely not allergies.

Desmond’s mouth had dried up without him noticing. He sniffed again. “Shaun?” He tried desperately to think whether it would be best to cover Shaun in blankets or cool him off or, or what. He gripped the damp washcloths in his hands. “Shaun, what do you need?” The last word stuck in his throat.

Shaun kicked his shoes off and they went flying against the far wall. “Anything but blankets!” He seized Desmond’s wrists and held him still as Desmond pressed the cold washcloth to his face and neck. Shaun’s gratified moan raised bumps all over Desmond’s skin. “I don’t know. I just need.”

“Jesus, Shaun,” he muttered. “What’s going on in there?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying to figure that out?” Shaun continued turning against the bed and rubbing himself against the cloth and Desmond’s hand. It seemed to offer him some relief to move against something. “God, this is torture. It doesn’t hurt, that’s the worst thing.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” Desmond’s mouth may have hung open. “Then what is it? What’s the problem?”

Shaun looked away. “I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me if it’s—” He reared back from the bed. He barely got his arm up before sneezing into his sleeve.

Shaun stared at him in horror.

“You have it too!”

“It was only a sneeze!”

Get out.” Shaun struggled weakly to push Desmond away, which ended with his hands dragging across Desmond’s chest and, yeah, Desmond could feel it now and he could start to appreciate what Shaun meant. The fever-warmth rose rose up even as the itch in his sinuses faded. Shaun continued shoving. “Move! What if you picked it up from me?”

“Quit,” Desmond said distantly, already losing his breath as he stared down at the hands on his chest. Shaun stared too, grinding his teeth and bunching his fists around the cloth, but his hands stayed. “Maybe you, um, shouldn’t touch me?”

“Oh shut up, Desmond. What are you, five?” Shaun sort of clenched all over and slumped in defeat. His hands slid down Desmond’s stomach.

Desmond wanted to take his own hands and press them over Shaun’s, keep that touch from going anywhere. It’d be better if his sweatshirt wasn’t in the way, he thought. And then he stopped and thought about what he'd just suggested to himself. His heart rate sped up.

This was so officially Not Allergies.

“This is officially embarrassing,” Shaun said with commendable strength, “but it seems I can’t. Stop touching you. Oh god,” he moaned as Desmond leaned into his touch. It was probably mean, given how hard Shaun was concentrating on pulling away, but Desmond felt it down to his toes and it was like scratching at an itch—he didn’t want it to stop. And there was the faint promise somewhere in the back of his primordial brain that if he chased after this sensation long enough the itch might go away…

“You’re right, it doesn’t really hurt,” Desmond said, still feeling dazed. He couldn’t get his head around the concept of not being in pain while his body reeled from what was quickly ripening into agony. “I think it’s going faster in me than it did in you.”

“Well done!” Shaun said and rolled his eyes. “Gold star for you. Where does that leave us, then? Maybe you’ll keel over faster for all we know and what are you doing?

Calling it an itch, that wasn’t right. It was more like waiting for a sneeze all day and right before release someone stopped it and asked, do you want to do that? Are you sure? Of course it’s satisfying and you’ll feel it all over and stop thinking about how much you want to sneeze every other second and damn it’s going to feel good, but are you really sure?

Desmond fell over the bed, catching himself with his hand on the other side of Shaun’s head. They inhaled like two men lowering themselves into a stinging cold bath, but now Desmond was mostly on the mattress and they would have been mostly touching if not for Shaun’s splayed hands still on Desmond’s stomach, holding him back.

Need.

“Shaun,” Desmond said slowly, staring at the skin on Shaun’s neck.

“No,” Shaun answered. He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped, and fuck that made Desmond’s body heat up all over.

“It feels better if you’re touching something, doesn’t it,” Desmond continued, not sure how he was still speaking. His arms shook, his head buzzed with need, must, now. Shaun was rutting up against his thigh, probably hadn’t even realized it. “Listen. When you actually have allergies, you sneeze. Maybe this is just the way of getting it out of our systems.”

Shaun opened his eyes again. They were fixed and blown out, glassy, full of the same want except on Shaun it looked downright predatory. They were both trembling, staring at one another from across that small, unbearable distance. Desmond lowered himself down a fraction, and he...

Hadn’t actually noticed he was hard until now. Taut, straining, tip peeking out his underwear hard.

And so was Shaun.

Desmond still had his eye on that strip of skin above Shaun’s collarbone, and a rush of heat spurred him passed concepts like second-guessing. He grasped Shaun’s upper arm and leaned forward, “You’re hard,” he said. It came out rough, a low growl.

“So are you,” he heard Shaun say, and something in Desmond’s head went, click.

The hands on him moved at the same time he did, dragging down to his body until they touched waistband. Desmond struggled with the shirt covering up Shaun’s skin, couldn’t get it out of the way fast enough. Shaun fought with his clothes, but as soon as the button popped he shoved his hand down Desmond’s pants and wrapped his hand around Desmond’s cock and oh fuck, that was it. Desmond choked. That was it.

Getting out of their clothes was a hasty and artless process, a mere hurdle in the way of whatever it they were going to damn well take care of. He wetly mouthed Shaun’s neck as they finally rid themselves of their underwear. “Have you...ever done this before?” Shaun panted in his ear.

There were three hands down between them, and it was all a little confusing, but all Desmond cared about was at least one of them was rubbing down his length and passing a thumb over the slit, and at least one of them was his and had a solid grip around Shaun, returning the favor. “No,” he said with a grunt. “Not with a guy.”

“Same.”

There was something ridiculous about trying to make conversation through this. Desmond pushed himself up and slid down Shaun’s body in one shaking motion. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he wanted it now, and whatever was driving both of them seemed to have a pretty good idea of how he was going to get it. Shaun’s cock was suddenly right in front of him and Desmond shivered, glutted with the possibility of fulfillment. “I think this might help. Brace yourself.”

“What? Des—”

He was glad Lucy and Rebecca weren’t there to hear Shaun shout when Desmond went down on him. Might help, it turned out, was a slight understatement. For Desmond, anyway.

He stroked the shaft with his tongue, sucking harder, lapping the underside. He swirled his tongue over the head and swallowed up any smooth beads of pre-come that could entice out, but he grew anxious when it wasn’t enough, wasn’t giving him what he wanted. “Shit,” Shaun hissed, and two strong hands clamped over Desmond’s head, dragging him down. Desmond gagged but it didn’t matter, somehow. The gnawing lust made it inconsequential to the heat, the hardness, the whole presence of this beautiful form filling him just how he needed. It amazed him.

And then suddenly it was gone, yanked away. Shaun shoved him back and Desmond practically snarled at him. “What the hell, asshole? I wasn’t done!”

“Tough,” Shaun said and flipped them. He fastened his hands on Desmond’s hips, pinning him down, and then his head lowered and—

Oh, heat. God, fucking everywhere, he was drowning in it. Shaun’s tongue licked a wide slow path over the sensitive head of his cock and Desmond couldn’t remember a thing about why he’d wanted to punch Shaun in the face a few seconds ago. Probably not important. Not important at all fuck. The need swelled in him and made him writhe, willing the hunger, the itch, whatever it was to stop tightening like a knot inside him and just release.

“Wait,” he groaned, eyes flying open. “No, nonono, turn around. Turn around!” he ordered, and luckily Shaun’s expression said he knew exactly what Desmond was thinking. Without releasing the cock in his mouth, he pivoted around so his own member hung directly over Desmond’s face and, oh. Oh yes, please.

They weren’t thinking clearly, that was true—something was driving them past discomforts, plowing right over any reluctances, but Desmond was still pretty sure it was impossible for anything to be more perfect than this.

They quieted beautifully, each happily occupied and serviced at the same time. Desmond wasn’t sure he was in the optimal position, though. Shaun could face-fuck him if he pleased, and Desmond could encourage him by pulling him down, but Shaun again had most of the control in sucking. His hands held Desmond down sometimes, until it was unbearable to not have the option to thrust up into that hot mouth.

Desmond’s spit and the precome coating his tongue pooled at the back of his throat, and he finally had to swallow. The contractions of his throat muscles coaxed the cock head into his throat and held it snug there a moment before releasing. Though it was muffled around Desmond’s own length, Shaun made the most honest and grateful noise he’d probably ever made in his life.

“Blood hell, Desmond,” Shaun sighed. “I know it’s probably the allergy or something, but are you sure this is your first time?”

He had almost found his rhythm again when Shaun shifted. His cock neatly slipped from Desmond’s mouth. Desmond lifted his head to follow it and found he couldn’t, had to desperately lap at what came within reach until Shaun realized. “Could ask you the same,” he said before Shaun slid past his waiting lips.

Desmond’s orgasm came out of nowhere, like it had been drawn up from deep inside him or somewhere far away without him noticing. He moaned in surrender around Shaun’s cock, felt hands holding him down throughout as Shaun swallowed him and refused to let up until Desmond once again lay back on the bed, exhausted, done. And Shaun was still softly licking him, cleaning away everything, when Shaun grunted and Desmond was finally rewarded with an orgasm on his end. He opened as wide as he could and raised his hands to cup Shaun’s ass, gently urging him down as he released and thrust into the back of Desmond throat.

The sounds of leisurely sucking faded as the thoughtless desire washed out of their systems. At last Shaun rolled to the side, falling against his bed. They caught their breath and didn’t speak for a while. It wasn’t the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, Desmond considered, but it was up there.

“Are you,” Desmond said to the ceiling, “are you, uh. Clean?”

The comforter at Desmond’s feet moved as Shaun nodded. Desmond could almost hear the eye roll in Shaun’s voice. “Yes. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Good.”

It'd probably be weird to say something about enjoying it. “At least the girls got out,” said Desmond, avoiding the similar but entirely different at least the girls were out.

“And it doesn’t seem to be coming back,” Shaun added, keeping to the theme of statements they could both agree on.

“Gesundheit, Shaun,” Desmond said. He sighed deeply. Shaun’s bed was surprisingly comfortable.

This time Desmond definitely heard the eye roll.

“Oh, fine. Bless you, Desmond.”



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If you sneezed while reading bless you.
ext_24935: made by <lj user="seapoke"> (AC Desmond)

[identity profile] devikun.livejournal.com 2011-07-20 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
Since I stopped hanging out in the meme, I missed this and man am I glad you reposted it! This is SPECTACULAR. Your Shaun and Desmond voices both are bloody spot on and you actually made unexplained sex-inducing headcolds believeable! Holy shit, major kudos. WELL DONE.

[identity profile] djsoliloquy.livejournal.com 2011-07-20 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, thank you very much! =D Outside of the whole ohgodyesplease aspect, sex is pretty physiologically alarming, but so are allergies! It just seemed to make sense.