AC2 Fic: Io sono...
Title:Io sono...
Rating: T
Characters:Desmond/Shaun
Summary: Meme fill. Desmond uses the Bleeding Effect to learn Italian and scare the crap out of Shaun.
Now that he was used to it, the Bleeding Effect was actually rather useful. Aside from the occasional vision of horses, or that one time he’d seen a gondola making its way down the hall, it was actually rather useful. Useful enough that he’d managed to pick up Italian. After some thought, he’d realised this had many advantages, not the least of which included extracting revenge on Shaun.
There had been many times when Desmond had thought he would become Ezio, or Altair. Desmond had tried to confide in Shaun. Surprisingly, Shaun had been the only one not to laugh when they’d found out about Altair’s feelings for Malik, or the exact nature of the relationship between Ezio and Leonardo. But he’d dismissed Desmond’s fear for the Bleeding Effect as insignificant, unimportant. Now it was time for Desmond’s revenge. Lucy and Rebecca were scouting the area, checking Templars hadn’t found their cabin: it was only Shaun watching the Animus. As he desynchronised, he slowly sat up and shook his head to clear the residual fogginess that came from a long session. Shaun wasn’t even looking at him, staring fixedly at his computers screen (as usual). Well, Desmond would give him something else to focus on.
“Che cosa?” Desmond spat, moving into the same fighting stance Ezio always adopted. It was a surprisingly natural move for him. The reaction was so deeply ingrained into his mind by now that he would adopt it whenever threatened. Across the room, Shaun had frozen. There was a long pause while he stared at the screen. Desmond could see how tense his muscles had gone. He even fancied he could see a single bead of sweat trace down the back of his neck and disappear under his grey sweater. Then the chair swivelled around and Shaun was staring at him. The historian’s mouth was ever so slightly open and his eyes were trained on Desmond.
“I swear, Desmond, if you’re messing with me...”
“Tu sei?” Desmond demanded, gesturing angrily at Shaun. He was rather enjoying this. In a quick string of Italian, he asked a series of questions, including what had happened, where Leonardo had gone and why he shouldn’t kill Shaun right this instant. Desmond was quite proud of how there wasn’t even a hint of an accent to his Italian - yet another advantage of the Bleeding Effect. Anyone would think Italian was his first language. Best of all, the more he spoke, the more concerned Shaun looked. When he picked out the threat in the end, Shaun went white. He put his hands up in a defensive position, showing Desmond he was unarmed. Desmond’s eyes narrowed. Shaun had to think he didn’t trust him.
“I’m your friend,” Shaun said slowly. When Desmond made no signs of understanding (after all, why would Ezio speak English?), he tacked on quickly, “Uh, I mean, sono il tuo amico. See, Desmond - or Ezio, whoever you are? Amico.” Shaun pointed at himself, emphasising the point.
Desmond had to try hard not to laugh at Shaun’s pathetic attempts to calm him. It was just as well Ezio hadn’t really consumed his personality. Otherwise Shaun would be in a whole heap of trouble. Instead of laughing, he eyed Shaun critically, as if sizing him up. Smirking, Desmond stalked forward, and laughed dangerously when Shaun scooted back in his chair.
“Sono Shaun. Io sono assassino. Io sono il tuo amico, Ezio!”
“Shaun,” Desmond repeated, turning the name over in his mouth as though it was new to him. “Mi chiamo Ezio.” He smirked, remembering what they had learned about Ezio’s preferences in an Animus session a few weeks ago. If Shaun was scared now, he was about to have a heart attack. “Sei bello, Shaun,” he murmured, leaning over his lover intimidatingly. He licked his lips and tried hard not to laugh when Shaun shivered.
“Desmond, it’s going to be okay,” Shaun said slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Desmond’s. It seemed he’d given up on trying to communicate with Ezio. Considering the Italian was rather single-minded, it was probably for the best. Ezio would be confused by Shaun’s appalling Italian, which would most likely make him angry in turn. Still, even Ezio would recognise the soothing tone of his voice as a tone only a friend would use. Despite Shaun’s calm tone of voice, his eyes were wide and panicking. Desmond swallowed heavily as he realised Shaun was silently pleading with him to come back. “I don’t know how this has happened, but I’m going to get you back.”
For a moment, Desmond was tempted to relent. He was tempted to tell Shaun it was all a joke, that he was fine, that there was nothing to be afraid of. Instead, he acted on an impulse he was quite sure Ezio would share in the same situation: he crushed his lips against Shaun’s in a passionate, fiery kiss. Instead of responding as he normally would have, Shaun went still. No matter how much Desmond worked his lips against him, he still didn’t react positively. Finally he pulled back, looking cross. He supposed he really should be flattered. It seemed Shaun was determined to be loyal to his mind, as well as his body. When he pulled back, Shaun looked tormented. He murmured Desmond’s name, their lips close enough to touch. Desmond smiled. Not Ezio’s cocky smirk or self-satisfied grin, but an honest to god smile.
“Non sono Ezio,” he said teasingly. “Sono Desmond. E tu sei il mio amore.”
“And you,” Shaun said crossly, his expression turning from concern to anger in just a split second, “are a prat. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
“Mi dispiace,” Desmond teased, and Shaun crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will be sorry,” Shaun told him pointedly. “You’re not getting any sex for a week.”
“What? Shaun, that’s not fair,” Desmond whined pathetically. Shaun raised an eyebrow before turning back to his computer.
“Shut up, Miles. You’re giving me a headache.”
Rating: T
Characters:Desmond/Shaun
Summary: Meme fill. Desmond uses the Bleeding Effect to learn Italian and scare the crap out of Shaun.
Now that he was used to it, the Bleeding Effect was actually rather useful. Aside from the occasional vision of horses, or that one time he’d seen a gondola making its way down the hall, it was actually rather useful. Useful enough that he’d managed to pick up Italian. After some thought, he’d realised this had many advantages, not the least of which included extracting revenge on Shaun.
There had been many times when Desmond had thought he would become Ezio, or Altair. Desmond had tried to confide in Shaun. Surprisingly, Shaun had been the only one not to laugh when they’d found out about Altair’s feelings for Malik, or the exact nature of the relationship between Ezio and Leonardo. But he’d dismissed Desmond’s fear for the Bleeding Effect as insignificant, unimportant. Now it was time for Desmond’s revenge. Lucy and Rebecca were scouting the area, checking Templars hadn’t found their cabin: it was only Shaun watching the Animus. As he desynchronised, he slowly sat up and shook his head to clear the residual fogginess that came from a long session. Shaun wasn’t even looking at him, staring fixedly at his computers screen (as usual). Well, Desmond would give him something else to focus on.
“Che cosa?” Desmond spat, moving into the same fighting stance Ezio always adopted. It was a surprisingly natural move for him. The reaction was so deeply ingrained into his mind by now that he would adopt it whenever threatened. Across the room, Shaun had frozen. There was a long pause while he stared at the screen. Desmond could see how tense his muscles had gone. He even fancied he could see a single bead of sweat trace down the back of his neck and disappear under his grey sweater. Then the chair swivelled around and Shaun was staring at him. The historian’s mouth was ever so slightly open and his eyes were trained on Desmond.
“I swear, Desmond, if you’re messing with me...”
“Tu sei?” Desmond demanded, gesturing angrily at Shaun. He was rather enjoying this. In a quick string of Italian, he asked a series of questions, including what had happened, where Leonardo had gone and why he shouldn’t kill Shaun right this instant. Desmond was quite proud of how there wasn’t even a hint of an accent to his Italian - yet another advantage of the Bleeding Effect. Anyone would think Italian was his first language. Best of all, the more he spoke, the more concerned Shaun looked. When he picked out the threat in the end, Shaun went white. He put his hands up in a defensive position, showing Desmond he was unarmed. Desmond’s eyes narrowed. Shaun had to think he didn’t trust him.
“I’m your friend,” Shaun said slowly. When Desmond made no signs of understanding (after all, why would Ezio speak English?), he tacked on quickly, “Uh, I mean, sono il tuo amico. See, Desmond - or Ezio, whoever you are? Amico.” Shaun pointed at himself, emphasising the point.
Desmond had to try hard not to laugh at Shaun’s pathetic attempts to calm him. It was just as well Ezio hadn’t really consumed his personality. Otherwise Shaun would be in a whole heap of trouble. Instead of laughing, he eyed Shaun critically, as if sizing him up. Smirking, Desmond stalked forward, and laughed dangerously when Shaun scooted back in his chair.
“Sono Shaun. Io sono assassino. Io sono il tuo amico, Ezio!”
“Shaun,” Desmond repeated, turning the name over in his mouth as though it was new to him. “Mi chiamo Ezio.” He smirked, remembering what they had learned about Ezio’s preferences in an Animus session a few weeks ago. If Shaun was scared now, he was about to have a heart attack. “Sei bello, Shaun,” he murmured, leaning over his lover intimidatingly. He licked his lips and tried hard not to laugh when Shaun shivered.
“Desmond, it’s going to be okay,” Shaun said slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Desmond’s. It seemed he’d given up on trying to communicate with Ezio. Considering the Italian was rather single-minded, it was probably for the best. Ezio would be confused by Shaun’s appalling Italian, which would most likely make him angry in turn. Still, even Ezio would recognise the soothing tone of his voice as a tone only a friend would use. Despite Shaun’s calm tone of voice, his eyes were wide and panicking. Desmond swallowed heavily as he realised Shaun was silently pleading with him to come back. “I don’t know how this has happened, but I’m going to get you back.”
For a moment, Desmond was tempted to relent. He was tempted to tell Shaun it was all a joke, that he was fine, that there was nothing to be afraid of. Instead, he acted on an impulse he was quite sure Ezio would share in the same situation: he crushed his lips against Shaun’s in a passionate, fiery kiss. Instead of responding as he normally would have, Shaun went still. No matter how much Desmond worked his lips against him, he still didn’t react positively. Finally he pulled back, looking cross. He supposed he really should be flattered. It seemed Shaun was determined to be loyal to his mind, as well as his body. When he pulled back, Shaun looked tormented. He murmured Desmond’s name, their lips close enough to touch. Desmond smiled. Not Ezio’s cocky smirk or self-satisfied grin, but an honest to god smile.
“Non sono Ezio,” he said teasingly. “Sono Desmond. E tu sei il mio amore.”
“And you,” Shaun said crossly, his expression turning from concern to anger in just a split second, “are a prat. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
“Mi dispiace,” Desmond teased, and Shaun crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will be sorry,” Shaun told him pointedly. “You’re not getting any sex for a week.”
“What? Shaun, that’s not fair,” Desmond whined pathetically. Shaun raised an eyebrow before turning back to his computer.
“Shut up, Miles. You’re giving me a headache.”