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Drunken Shenanigans

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= = =

Charles wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. A son? Haytham had a son? His first emotion was sincere shock. Haytham was staring at him, great anxiety darkening his eyes and twisting his mouth. Charles wanted to say something, to respond, but at the moment all he could do was struggle to process. Charles briefly wished he had never asked, but then dismissed that as a silly, cowardly notion.

His eyes fell on the third glass filled with apple juice. Grabbing it, Charles gulped the contents down. He needed the distraction the action allowed, enabling him to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Admittedly, the only reason that Charles hadn’t dissolved into a mess of irrational fear that this would cause Haytham to decide to stay with Ziio, was that even Charles with his moods had heard the conviction in Haytham’s voice.

Haytham did not lie and when he said he wanted, loved Charles, he meant it and when he declared that he did not desire to re-unite with Ziio, that in fact neither did she, then this was the truth.

Yet most of all, the warm reassuring weight of Haytham’s hand on his neck helped ground Charles. It was real and here, solid and unmoving. Haytham was clearly not going anywhere.

And Haytham was looking grimmer by the minute as Charles’ silence drew on; with a trace of alarm beginning to glimmer through his normally calm façade. Charles couldn’t permit that. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was sticking to Haytham like a dog to its master, though Charles would like to think with Haytham seeing him more as an equal.

Reaching up he laid his hand over Haytham’s, the hairs on the back of Haytham’s hand tickling his palm. Charles rather liked the sensation.

“Sir…Haytham, I can’t pretend I’m not surprised, but I’m not going anywhere. I hope you’ll allow me to help, whatever choice you make.”

The smile that broke out on Haytham’s face did the impossible: it made Haytham look more handsome than ever. Charles was sure that he was glimpsing Haytham’s soul, sappy as that thought was. Then, Haytham leaned forward his eyes were bright and apparently glowing from within (a phrase Charles now understood).

Haytham kissed him, long and slow, lips moving against his. Charles gasped in delight. At last! Eagerly responding, Charles discovered Haytham was as quick as ever, slipping his tongue into Charles’ mouth and exploring. It was wonderful and Charles wanted so much more.

Moaning, Charles tried pressing closer to Haytham only to end up falling into his lap. Haytham fell over backwards, thankfully onto the sofa and started laughing. His arms now wound around Charles, trapping him in position. Charles was aware of how their bodies were flush, groins rubbing together as he shifted in an attempt to steady himself. However, Haytham had none of that.

Grunting at the friction Haytham braced a hand on the back of his neck and Charles was being urged to look up. Embarrassed Charles did and saw how happy Haytham looked.

“Don’t be like that Charles. I think we are going to have lots of fun.”

Haytham kissed him again, this time hungrily, devouring him as if he hadn’t just eaten. Breathless Charles gave as good as he got, nipping at wandering lips, twisting a little as Haytham’s hand began wandering, dipping under his shirt. Yet Haytham didn’t allow him to move too much, which was actually quite appealing. Charles enjoyed being caught against Haytham’s lean muscled body, revelling in the hardness he pressed against and the slide of Haytham’s hands on the skin of his back, possessive and curious.

He hissed as Haytham nudged under his chin and began nuzzling at his neck. It was wonderful. Groaning, Charles succeeded in shifting his left leg between their bodies, pressing against Haytham’s bulge. Haytham’s responding groan was delicious, breath hot on Charles sensitive neck and Charles clumsily moved his knee – there wasn’t much room to move – rubbing Haytham’s hardness.

Doing so pushed him into Haytham’s searching hands. They raked over his back and slipped under the top of his trousers. They brushed tantalisingly over his pants while Haytham bit and licked at Charles’ throat. Charles shuddered, lost in pleasure as Haytham attacked on all fronts even as Charles tormented him with rubbing his erection.

Charles could feel his own hardness leaking. He was so hot, belly tight with need and body thrumming. Charles struggled to focus, “Haytham…can… can we…”


Haytham’s mobile tone broke the moment. Groaning in frustration Charles pulled away from Haytham who looked annoyed.

“Why are we always interrupted? I swear, if that’s Thomas.”

“You’ll chase him around the room as usual?” Haytham teased. Charles grinned, frustration leaking away slightly from Haytham actually teasing him, affection evident. Haytham reluctantly squeezed Charles backside, “I’m afraid this must wait and I need to finish telling you about my son.”

Charles knew Haytham was right, but he was still regretful that their session had been curtailed. “You’ll have to release me Haytham.”

Haytham raised an eyebrow, “Indeed?” Giving one last squeeze – Charles hissed – he loosened his hold and Charles, desperate to cool his erection, slid off. Haytham’s burning gaze on his crotch caused Charles to swallow hard, the heat in his belly flaming hotter.

“Shall I answer your phone?” Charles asked trying to cool the situation.

“No, I’ll call back.” Haytham swung his legs around and stood. He immediately ordered his messy clothing, fingers brushing over his bulge in a way that Charles found equal parts arousing and distracting. Knowing he had to calm down, Charles raised the subject of Haytham’s son.


“Yes Charles?” Haytham looked up from where fiddling with his mobile, curious.

“What is your son’s name? How old is he? Will he come and live with us?”

Haytham frowned, “I cannot pronounce his Native name, but his mother said that his English name is ‘Connor’. As for living with me…hardly. Ziio would not give him up and I admit I’m hardly prepared for having a child in the house twenty four hours, seven days a week. As for Connor’s age…four I believe.”

Charles nodded. Four sounded right time-wise, “What is our next move?”

Haytham picked up their plates and Charles hurriedly took the glasses, grateful that their conversation was cooling his blood and his other regions. He walked beside Haytham to the kitchen as Haytham answered, “I called William while you slept and he is working on some details for me. That was him. I’ll call when we have washed up.”

Setting the dishes in the sink, Charles found Haytham studying him carefully. “How do you feel? Are you up to the office? I would like the truth Charles. It will be a long night, so if you require rest we can instead do this tomorrow?”

Charles considered the question with the care it deserved. His headache was receding and while only seconds ago he had been ready for a lot of heavy petting, Charles now felt the after-effects of a long stressful day. It was his own fault for getting so damnably drunk, but that didn’t matter. Charles had worked before under great anxiety and strain, yet it would be nice to be able to work with a clear head.

“Can it wait?”

Haytham turned the tap on, “Yes. No matter what William has found we need to approach this with caution.”

Charles nodded, “I think if it is possible then, a few hours of sleep and I’ll be able to assist to the best of my ability. I don’t require a whole night, maybe four?”

Haytham’s smile was small, yet indicative of his pleasure at Charles common sense.

“Go now then Charles and I’ll wake you by ten.”

Relieved Charles darted forward to drop a kiss on Haytham’s lips, before dashing off. He loved seeing Haytham’s startled and slightly put-out reaction. It was encouraging to know how much Haytham wanted this as well…though he definitely required another shower – this time cold – to cool his arousal.

= = =

When Charles was shaken awake by Haytham it was to find Haytham perched on the bed, leaning over him. The room was dark save for the hallway light spilling in through the partially opened door. It cast Haytham’s face into shadows, making him appear mysterious.

“It’s ten, Charles. William called again to say he’s made some progress. Dress quickly and warmly, we might have field work ahead.”

“Yes sir. Haytham.”

Charles shrugged sheepishly. It was going to take a little time for his habit of calling Haytham ‘sir’ fade away, at least in private, even if Haytham didn’t seem too upset by the title. Charles found that interesting and made a mental note to keep the fact in mind.

“I shall be waiting.” Haytham kissed him quickly and Charles grinned. Sliding out of bed as Haytham left Charles actually wished Ziio had turned up sooner. Switching on his bed-side lamp Charles shook his head. He might owe her thanks, not a sentiment Charles had ever thought he would feel and it made him uncomfortable.

Never-mind, he would deal with the possibility of being grateful in Ziio’s presence when the immediate situation was over.

By the time Charles had dressed in his usual suit with his more hard-wearing clothes packed in a shoulder bag, he went into the living room. Haytham was attired in his dark blue suit, tailored to his frame; spotless white shirt and ebony tie with an Abstergo silver pin. Charles liked Haytham’s shirt for it matched his own white shirt: both bore a discreet gold cross on the collar button.

“Ready Charles?”

“Yes. Am I driving?”

“No need. I called Ben. He’s waiting for us. It will spare us if we must converse about important matters later.”

Charles nodded. It made perfect sense. Ben Hornigold was an old, well-tried employee, loyal and most importantly knew how to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t simply a driver; he was a man of many skills and oversaw their shipping operations on the East coast.

Haytham picked up his own shoulder bag and gestured for Charles to lead so he could lock the door behind them. Charles checked their surroundings ere walking quickly to the black car parked on the curb.

He could discern Ben in the car for the overhead light was on. Haytham fell into step and together they got in.

“The usual Ben,” said Haytham.

“Yes Master Kenway.”

Charles settled back into the seat, content to have Haytham sitting beside him as Ben ensured no one was tailing them. Exchanging glances with Haytham, Charles relaxed some more at the contentedness that Haytham radiated. It was a surprisingly pleasant mix with the already focused aura Haytham wore when on a mission.

= = =

“Oooo here come the love-birds!” hollered Thomas as they entered Haytham’s office.

Charles scowled, annoyed at the heat in his cheeks. Thomas somehow could always touch that button inside him that ignited his temper, even when they got on. William and John were present and their expressions were amused and curious.

Haytham shut the door and raised an eyebrow at Thomas’ leering smile, “I trust Thomas you’ll be able to conduct yourself with decorum after your initial display?”

Thomas smirked. “Yeah…after saying I told ya so and that the air will be fresher with all the unresolved sexual tension gone.”

Charles twitched. Surely strangling Thomas shouldn’t be such an attractive prospect? Then again, his friend had a point rather unfortunately. “Must you be so insufferable in victory Thomas?”

“Like you are?”

Charles rolled his eyes and carefully dropped his bag on the table that dominated Haytham’s office. The Grandmaster’s office was an orderly affair, neat and precise: at the far end, a full plane of glass stretched lending a magnificent view during the day. Now at this late hour the city lights would be glimmering, however for privacy the blinds were drawn preventing light escaping or entering.

Haytham’s desk was situated in front of this window, with the standard office supplies: computer, pen holder, a couple of pictures: one of his mother, father and sister, the other of their little band.

There was also space on the desk for paperwork for even in a digital world there was always a necessity for hard copies. Everything else – files, vital maps and reports and so on were either locked in his desk drawers or in a separate room, concealed from sharp eyes.

To the left of the entrance was a long table with chairs that formed the nexus for board meetings. William, John and Thomas were lounging here. William with his laptop switched on along with a sheaf of papers. It was also where Charles had placed his bag.

Thomas was drinking as normal while John was checking his gun.

“So what I have missed?”

Haytham sat down, nodding for Charles to take his usual seat next to him. “I shall run through what I know first then William can fill us in with what he has uncovered.” William nodded in agreement. John put down his gun and Thomas stopped rocking back and forth in his chair and folded his arms on the table, leaning forward, clearly curious.

Charles withdrew his notebook from inside his jacket, it was well-worn, the cover creased and stained with use. He would have to procure a new one soon. Flipping it open, Charles uncapped his pen. He had to make up for his earlier behaviour. He saw John shaking his head slightly but Charles shrugged it off – John had a tendency of saying that he was a tad obsessive about proving himself and the like. Charles preferred to think it was that he was prepared for all eventualities was what had granted him the position of second-in-command.

“Gentlemen, as you all know by now, Ziio appeared this morning.” Haytham gazed at all of them in turn, a small flicker of warmth for Charles, before continuing. “She has travelled from New York bearing some very interesting information.”

“Yeah…that you have a kid!” sniggered Thomas.

“Indeed,” remarked Haytham coolly. “I see that William has filled you in already. For Charles’ sake however do be quiet Thomas.”

Charles grinned and met Thomas’ scowl with a sneer of his own. It was harmless, familiar and neither man would do anything to comprise a mission.

“As I was saying, Ziio travelled from her home with the sole purpose of speaking to me. As our last encounter was unsuccessful in finding what we sought I was surprised to see her. Yet I decided to follow her as whatever reason she had for being there had to be compelling. I was right.”

Haytham clasped his hands, “To cut the story short, Ziio spoke of strange incidents happening with increasingly frequency among her people; strange lights, noises on the wind and visions of events that have been and of things that could be.

“There is talk of spirits and mass hallucination. Ziio believes it could be more. At first she was unwilling to involve us. Yet when more began to see these visions or see odd markings in the air and nothing they were doing was working then Ziio realised that all these events match with the criteria that I – we – have been inquiring about.”

A palpable sense of excitement suffused the air. Charles could see mirrored in his companions’ faces the same thought: that at last, this could be it. That they were close to finding what they sought. Charles had to voice the question that danced on all their tongues.

“Haytham, do you think it could be a Piece of Eden?”

Haytham looked at him, voice betraying his hope, “I believe it could be or that these occurrences could lead to the shrine that holds an Apple.”

“But why after lying dormant for so long would the technology of the First Race awaken?” asked John.

“A good question John. William, do have any answers for us?”

William smiled, “I believe I do.” He pulled from his sheaf a folded paper which he opened to depict a map depicting the area around Ziio’s home. “This is the land upon which Ziio and her people live. Nearby is the precursor site which she showed Haytham four years ago and which was opened by the Assassins.”

William now turned to his laptop and tapping the touchpad to shift the screensaver, showed a list of article links.

“These links all have a common theme. They report some of the mysterious goings on that Ziio has mentioned, plus that other people have witnessed near our precursor site. Ever since the Assassins stopped the solar flare, such incidents have been becoming more regular.”

“You think that the First Civilisation technology is waking up as a whole?” Charles couldn’t help but ask.

“I do. Whether this is a good or bad thing is another matter entirely.”

“I think,” murmured Haytham, “that we can agree it isn’t wholly either. From what intel we have gathered from Mr Desmond Miles and the scattered Assassin cells, is that Juno has escaped and we must now try and stop her. If indeed, as it appears, their technology is activating, this could work in our favour…if we reach it in time, discover its purposes and understand how to utilise it. On the other hand, Juno is already knowledgeable about the devices of her race. To win we must stay ahead.”

“So there may be more to the precursor site – the Grand Temple I suppose – than the Assassins found?” said Thomas, wiping his mouth.

Charles stopped writing. Thomas’ question poked at a dormant consideration he had entertained once. “The Assassins used an Apple in the Temple, that much we inferred from the conversations we eavesdropped on. However, if Juno’s release coupled with the opening of the precursor, that is, the Temple site has set a chain reaction through dormant First Civilisation technology, perhaps the cause for all these visions etcetera is another piece of their technology…”

“Another Apple?” said Thomas.

“No, I don’t necessarily think so. These witnesses speak of visions and while the Apple seems to offer something in that vein, Ziio and the reports suggest a stricter definition of premonitions of the future, with glimpses of the past. I’m not saying it isn’t an Apple, but nor am I limiting it to solely that.”

The office went still. A silence trickled into the room and Charles could practically inhale the anticipation that suffused his friends. Haytham was studying him and it was nerve-wracking and exhilarating for Haytham looked stern and his eyes were expressionless, giving away nothing, much like a calm sea did not reveal when it would suddenly turn deadly.

Charles enjoyed those moments because the thrill in attempting to prod behind the composed exterior, to elicit an emotional response was fascinating and intoxicating. He wasn’t disappointed. A smile tugged at Haytham’s lips and pleasure glowed in his voice and eyes at Charles’ reasoning, “Charles is correct. We shouldn’t narrow our search to a Piece of Eden. If Ziio and her people are guarding First Civilisation artefacts we must remain open to whatever it might be.”

“So what is our course of action?” questioned John Pitcairn, leaning forward.

“We will travel to New York and speak to Ziio again. Once we have the latest facts we will search the area for ourselves.”

Haytham fixed each of them with a steely look, Charles straightened. “We must make every effort to show we are friends and wish to help Ziio and her people. Be careful of what you say and how, words have power so do not misuse them.”

“How about your son?” asked William.

Charles realised that his friends were all glancing at him while Haytham responded. They clearly felt he was going to handle this badly. Anger at their reaction coursed hot in his blood and Charles had to restrain himself from speaking. Instead he focused on maintaining an aura of serenity and as Haytham replied, Charles tasted bitter mortification.

Had he been so obvious in his obsession and jealously that his friends questioned his ability to support Haytham in such an important new aspect of his life – raising a son? Well, he would have to try and handle his temper better, otherwise his reputation might be irrevocably ruined and with it Haytham’s chance of a good relationship with his son, since he was now Haytham’s partner.

“Connor will come home with Charles and I. Ziio, reluctantly I add, agreed that he should stay with us for a week, so that we may begin to get to know each other.”

Charles licked his lips and determined to support Haytham more than usual to allay his friends’ wariness.

“Do we need to arrange anything in particular for Connor’s arrival? Such as toys or bedding?” A thought struck and Charles wanted to bang his head on the table, how could they miss something so obvious? “We will require a car-seat certainly.”

Haytham’s eyes widened, his composure briefly unsettled, “I forgot that detail.”

William frowned, “How much trouble can a four year old be?”

Thomas burst into peals of laughter, “You’re kidding right? Don’t ya remember your own childhood William?”

William raised an eyebrow, “Enough Thomas. Yes I do. I don’t recall being that much of a handful. I am not surprised to see that your boyhood exploits were wilder than mine.”

Charles ignored this exchange, busy calculating what in fact they had to prepare for Connor’s arrival. Charles was certain that Ziio wouldn’t simply hand the boy over without some sort of instructions, but it would be better to have a few things ready.


“Yes Charles?”

“I assume we shan’t need to buy clothing or toys – at least not at the start, maybe a small toy as a gift, you are his father – as Ziio will mostly likely pack these. However, the car-seat is one item and sweets as most children are fond of them. Books we can buy with Connor present, a bonding exercise if you will. As for child-friendly cartoons, anyone remember what we liked as children?”

John raised an eyebrow, “A lot has changed since we were four, so I’m not sure what we liked is even relevant now.”

Charles frowned, “Surely children don’t change that much.”

Haytham pulled William’s laptop towards him, ensuring he saved William’s work before opening another tab. “It is unlikely we’ll be able to guess what Connor likes without input. I suggest we look up what cartoons we enjoyed, purchase them and then worry about relevant shows.”

Thomas grinned, “Do we all get to choose?”

Haytham eyed Thomas warily, “Yes though I expect you to remember my son is four.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want some of the pathetic cartoons they have today – where’s the action, scariness and brilliant music?”

Charles sighed. He agreed with Thomas on some level, but he feared that Connor would end up traumatised if Thomas was allowed free run. What cartoons would be appropriate for a four year old? Charles pondered as he watched Haytham tap in a couple of general searches “cartoons for children”; “for four year olds”; “for four year old boys”.

Rubbing his eyes Charles froze as he heard Haytham mutter in disgust, “All I can find is something called ‘SpongeBob SquarePants?’ What on earth? What happened to Gummi Bears?”

Was it really that simple? Charles felt ridiculous for missing the obvious. “Can’t we stick to the classics?”

When all four stared at him blankly Charles wondered if he was the only one who had bothered applying mental energy to the exercise, apart from Haytham of course. “Disney. Almost every child loves Disney cartoons and they’re easy to pick up.”

Haytham smiled, “Well done Charles.” Charles grinned and ignored Thomas rude gesture behind Haytham’s back.

Snapping the laptop shut Haytham stood and walked over to his desk. Unlocking one a drawer he extracted two sets of keys.

“It is late so we cannot purchase a child seat or any cartoons.”

“And bedding!”

“Yes, Charles, bedding too.”

“Can’t we get someone else to do that stuff?” grumbled Thomas.

Haytham gazed at Thomas coolly and the man shrunk in his seat. “Not at the moment. Everything must be kept quiet until we ascertain what is happening. If I mention Connor to any employee or request items for a four year boy it is possible, however slim, that word may leak to the Assassins. I will not endanger the mission or my son. Therefore, we shall oversee affairs understood?”

“Yes Sir,” said Thomas, knowing when to be obedient.

“Perfect.” Haytham returned to the table and handed one set of keys to William. “Take Thomas with you and explore the Temple area. If you require men bring only the Knights.”

Charles relaxed, the Knights were well trained and honed soldiers. Haytham had begun organising and training men – and women – with the skills to attempt to match the Assassins. Currently only a small group they had proved successful and Charles knew Haytham was hopeful yet practical for the future.

“John, you shall come with Charles and I to meet with Ziio.”

Haytham picked up his bag and nodded to his men, “Make any preparations now for a four am departure. Ensure you also catch some sleep. We should, if everything goes to plan arrive around eight in the morning in New York. Once we arrive we will have one last exchange then we shall head our separate ways.”

Haytham clapped a hand on Charles shoulder, squeezing, “My group will pick up some items for Connor and then meet with Ziio and William you will lead your team to the Grand Temple site. Any ”

Everyone shook their heads. “Then goodnight. Charles and I will be here if you need either one of us.”

Thomas sniggered, “Yeah, I bet you two will be busy with ‘preparing’ as well.” Thomas air quoted and then winked at Charles, “Hey Charlie, I’ve got cream if you have trouble walking or sitting later, you know what I mean?”

Charles spluttered, mortified beyond belief and angry as well. The desire to throttle Thomas was overwhelming and if it hadn’t been for his promise earlier to handle his temper better he would have jumped the table and probably slammed the uncouth Templar against the wall. Digging his hands into the table Charles instead swallowed, biting his lip.

He felt Haytham squeeze his shoulder painfully hard then speak in a low cold tone to Thomas, “I would advise you to watch your mouth Thomas, especially to Charles. William, please reign in Thomas.”

“Yes Sir.”

William, with a great deal of exasperation grabbed Thomas by the arm and started hauling him out. Charles breathed deeply and reminded himself that he owed Thomas a little for bringing he and Haytham together. So, he just succeeded in issuing “Goodnight” pleasantly to Thomas, who, along with the others glanced warily at him before repeating in kind.

When the door clicked shut, fingers under his chin forced his head up. Charles found Haytham assessing him curiously. “While I am not displeased with your restraint Charles, I am curious as to why.” A rough thumb stroked his cheek.

Charles blinked, struggling to speak past the sudden tightness in his chest. “Because I do not wish to upset or undermine your authority Haytham. I realised this night when John, Thomas and William expected me to ‘flip’ at hearing the news you had a son; heck what else could they believe when Thomas found me in a mess just this morning?”

Charles licked his lips and Haytham’s thumb was there, tracing the trail his tongue had taken. “I…I don’t want to continue like that and I am sorry I let that lack of trust build for so long.”

Haytham smiled sadly, yet pride glimmered in his eyes. “I appreciate the sentiment and will support you Charles in your endeavour, but know I never thought for one moment you undermined my authority or upset me.” Haytham urged him up and kissed him, “Without becoming sentimental, I assure you that the others don’t feel quite as strongly as you do. Thomas for all his faults obeys your orders and wouldn’t if he felt the pay was outweighed by foolishness.”

Charles laughed, “I suppose so.” Hesitating, Charles then summoned his courage and kissed Haytham, luxuriating in the feel of Haytham’s lips and tongue. Haytham however pulled away, but not without regret clearly showing. Breathless, Charles was glad to be encouraged to rest his forehead on Haytham’s.

“To bed Charles, though unfortunately to only sleep. We must be fighting fit for the ‘morrow.”

Damn. “Yes Sir.”

Again that peculiar flash in Haytham’s eyes and the corresponding flutter in his belly had Charles excited. He would definitely explore this when they had time. For the moment though he enjoyed the sensation of Haytham guiding him by the hand to the discrete door that led into a small room that contained a pull-out sofa bed, tiny washroom and table for a lamp, book and pen and a single chair.

The bed was already made up as Haytham did not use the room for anything else beyond sleep and possibly reading or writing in his journal. Haytham undid the buttons on his blue jacket and raised an eyebrow at Charles, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in just your underwear Charles?”

Charles’s mouth was dry so he just nodded and fumbled with the buttons until he somehow got the offending jacket off. He kept an eye on Haytham who almost sensually slid the Abstergo pin off his ebony tie before gently easing his tie from its knot, the silk running over his long elegant fingers.

Glancing away because he couldn’t actually focus on what he was doing Charles nervously unclipped his own pin – a present from Haytham, a silver eagle – and undid his scarlet tie. Looking around Charles met Haytham’s gaze and almost dropped his tie at the heat in the frank stare.

“On the chair Charles,” Haytham’s voice was smooth yet strangely…deep, yes deep, reminding Charles of a predator.

Stay calm Charles.

Draping his tie neatly over the chair and adding his jacket Charles switched to his shirt and trousers not daring to look up until both were folded and ready to place on the chair.

When he did he couldn’t help himself and glanced at Haytham who calmly caught his stare. Haytham was wearing only his underwear, erection clearly straining through the material. His pants suddenly became uncomfortable, material restricted as his cock responded to the sight.

The suppressed passion in the twist of Haytham’s lips caused the hairs rise on his skin. Charles swallowed and watched as Haytham narrowed his eyes, following the motion of Adam’s apple.


Haytham dragged his gaze up and Charles was ridiculously pleased that he could inspire such desire in Haytham. It had been his secret fantasy for as long as he had known Haytham.


“Which side of the bed?”

“Next to the wall.”

Nodding, Charles had to brush past Haytham and shivered at the sensation of hot skin. Flicking back the cover he eased in and scooted to the wall. Facing it Charles closed his eyes and attempted to regulate his breathing and cool his erection only to yelp as Haytham joined him and with one smooth move turned him over.

Facing Haytham, Charles found his efforts wasted as Haytham kissed him with bruising force. Gasping, Charles had Haytham’s tongue in his throat and in a startled whimper Haytham’s right hand inside his pants.

Charles barely choked out his question in the brief respite he had when Haytham growled in displeasure and withdrew to hiss, “Pants off.”


Haytham’s eyes burned, “I changed my mind. Off.”

That was good enough and Charles frantically pushed at the hem of his pants while Haytham did the same. It was tricky with the confined space and after a few seconds Haytham stopped him.

“That’ll do,” he murmured, voice husky. Haytham’s pants were also partly down Charles realised as Haytham guided Charles’ hand to his cock. Charles closed his eyes in pleasure, oh it was wonderful: hot, thick and pre-come glistening at the tip.

Haytham’s low gasp at the contact was also reassuring and encouraging. Excited Charles closed his hand and slowly moved up Haytham’s length. Haytham hissed and pushed into him. Then Charles was groaning as Haytham’s hand curled around his leaking cock.

Eyes fluttering open Charles saw Haytham’s mouth slightly parted with lust, strands of his dark hair brushing his cheeks. Charles realised Haytham was smiling at Charles’ survey, a promise lurking in the curve of his lips.

That was his only warning before Charles found himself being assailed again: Haytham’s spare hand curling behind Charles neck to bare his throat, then the Grandmaster’s mouth biting at his flesh even as he began fisting Charles cock.

It was exquisite. Charles writhed under the attention, enjoying the hard panes of his lover’s muscles and the sting of Haytham’s teeth, soothed by the flutter of his lips.

Groaning, Charles managed to press his right hand to Haytham’s chest, liking the contact and squeezed the heavy length in his hand, relishing the feel and the sounds it drew from Haytham; and ah…Haytham’s breath seemed hotter, more forceful on his throat and his kisses wetter.

Charles took that as a good sign, so he started squeezing and fisting Haytham’s cock, taking clumsy swipes with his thumb over the tip.

Quickly his hand became slippery as did Haytham’s hand as both their vigour and passion increased. Heat and tightness gripped his belly and Charles pushed desperately into Haytham’s firm glides. Haytham was panting heavily now and switched to sucking at the base of Charles throat and shoulder. His grip on the nape of Charles neck tightened.

Shuddering Charles stroked slippery fingers over Haytham’s balls and whimpered at the gentle nip he received in return.

Delighted he massaged Haytham there, cupping Haytham’s balls and rolling them, then shifting to pulling hard and fast at his flushed cock. Haytham tensed and Charles knew what was going to happen soon and eagerly fisted once, twice…then Haytham was spilling into and between his fingers and biting down.

Then Haytham was raising his head and whispering with his usual air of command – if slightly breathless – “Come for me now Charles,” and twisting and squeezing to the brink of pain.

Unable as always to deny Haytham, nor ignore the acute mix of pleasure and pain Charles came. The rush of orgasm captured him, straining all his senses, belly almost impossibly clenching as he spilled. Collapsing from that was shocking yet glorious and trying to gain his breath Charles watched dazed as Haytham quickly slipped out to run a cloth under the tap. Then his sure, steady hands were cleaning them.

It was a headache to pull their pants up and then happily Charles was being hauled against Haytham, back against the honed chest of his lover and Haytham’s arm a possessive weight snaring him. Charles rested one hand over Haytham’s and as contentment ushered in sleep grinned at the image of their matching Templar rings.

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