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It is a relief to get back to the colonies, despite the ongoing war. New York is crawling with Redcoats when he arrives, yet Shay doesn’t care about that. (He’ll care tomorrow. But today, the only thing he cares about is seeing Haytham.)
Grand Master Kenway is also in New York, at the manor that the Templars still call home in the city. At least, according to the kitchen staff when he lets himself in through the servants’ entrance. A few of them give him knowing looks, to which Shay smirks back at them before creeping through the halls with every bit of stealth he possesses.
Haytham is alone in his study, when Shay gets upstairs. Blinking away Eagle Vision, Shay eases the door open as quietly as he can, and slips inside. Haytham’s bent over his desk, writing something that Shay can’t see from the doorway. His hair is fully silver now, Shay realizes. It suits him well.
“I’m back,” he announces as he shuts the door behind him.
The amount that Haytham Kenway startles at that announcement really makes all the effort he’d put in to get here as quietly as he did worth it.
“So you are,” Haytham says in the tone that strongly suggests he is desperately clinging to his composure, standing and turning to greet him. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon, Shay. Another lead, or...?”
Shay beams at him, and Haytham’s eyes go wide. “You found it,” he realizes.
“Aye, I did,” Shay agrees, reaching into his coat to produce the Box.
“Very well done,” Haytham says, and Shay could kiss him. Maybe he will sooner rather than later, but before he can start putting those thoughts into action, Haytham asks, “Where was it?”
“Paris,” Shay says, not bothering to refrain from wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be quite happy to not return anytime soon.”
“Paris,” Haytham repeats with a raised brow. “I can’t say I expected that... still, we’ll need to make certain it’s much better hidden than the Assassins could manage so that they never find it again.”
“Aye, we will,” Shay agrees easily. He moves further into the study and sets the Box down on Haytham’s desk for the time being. “But that can wait for at least a little while, I reckon.”
“Perhaps,” Haytham says. “I assume you already have plans in mind?”
The way his gaze drifts to Shay’s lips—whether he’s aware of it or not—suggests that he might have a fairly good idea of them, too.
Shay grins and prowls closer to him. “I might,” he says.
Haytham hums an acknowledgment. And then, to Shay’s surprise, he finds himself being kissed first.
He certainly has no complaints about Haytham taking a bit of initiative. It’s a rare occurrence, at least in this context.
Without breaking the kiss, Shay walks Haytham across the room until his back is to the nearest wall, before pressing closer to him.
Haytham pulls him in further, deepening the kiss without even a moment’s hesitation. For all that he is extremely unlikely to admit it out loud, seems he really did miss Shay while he was gone, which is a flattering thought.
Unfortunately, they do both need to breathe, so Shay is forced to break away before long. He rests his forehead against Haytham’s, and is gratified to hear that the Grand Master is breathing as heavily as Shay himself is.
“It’s good to see you again, sir,” he murmurs, smiling softly.
“I... have missed your company,” Haytham murmurs back.
Shay blinks. While he could tell as much, he wasn’t expecting to hear it.
“I’m here now,” he says, before any of the other things he wants to say, much more dangerous things, can claw their way out of his throat.
“So you are,” Haytham says. Shay wonders if he knows he’s smiling, too.
Shay presses a quick kiss to his lips, then pulls back to catch Haytham’s eyes. “Think I might be allowed to take my time with you today, sir?” he asks, smirking.
“I’m sure that could be arranged, Master Cormac,” Haytham replies.
He is in a good mood, though Shay manages to refrain from saying as much aloud.
“Glad to hear it,” Shay purrs, before leaning in to kiss him again. This kiss is much more possessive, fueled by the burning need that Shay (if he’s being honest with himself) always feels toward Haytham, and so infrequently gets to indulge. Haytham’s lips part under his, and Shay wastes no time in licking into his mouth as he presses Haytham further against the wall.
One of Haytham’s hands goes into Shay’s hair, fumbling with the ribbon holding it back for a moment before pulling it free. He gathers a handful of it, and his grip is just this side of painful, not that that’s ever stopped Shay before.
He slides a hand between them, brushing against the front of Haytham’s breeches, and is rewarded with the Grand Master moaning into the kiss. Shay can feel the hardness there already, which does all sorts of nice things for his ego. He tears himself away from Haytham’s lips enough to trail kisses along his jaw instead. He’s intimately aware that they’re in Haytham’s study, and lacking access to a bed, but he’s feeling too impatient to take even the brief time it would take to get down the hallway. At least, not before he’s made Haytham see stars at least once. (And Haytham is very unlikely to let Shay bend him over his desk at the moment, so that’s out too.)
“You stay right there for now,” he whispers in Haytham’s ear. And then he sinks down onto his knees, and watches Haytham’s eyes go wide with comprehension. He doesn’t give Haytham a chance to say anything before working at his clothes, pushing them out of the way until he’s greeted with the sight of Haytham’s cock, already dripping with precome.
It’s enough to have him biting back a groan, all too aware of his own desperation. But this is about Haytham; Shay can wait for now. He rejects the idea of teasing him, however, in favor of shuffling closer and taking Haytham’s cock into his mouth. It’s been some time since he last got to do this, but Haytham tastes the same as he remembers.
“Shay,” Haytham gasps, still gripping Shay’s hair tightly. With his mouth otherwise occupied, all Shay can do is hum an acknowledgment as he looks up at Haytham through his eyelashes, drawing a full-body shudder from the Grand Master. He lets his head fall back against the wall, a low moan falling from his lips, and Shay would be grinning if he could. He loves how readily Haytham responds to him, how much he clearly enjoys this when he lets the proper mask fall away.
There’s a red flush painted across his cheeks, and as Shay starts sucking gently, Haytham’s hips rock forward, chasing the sensation.
Shay certainly has no intention of denying him. He presses closer, taking Haytham deeper and relishing in the desperate noise that slips out of him. It won’t take long to get him off, Shay thinks. Not with the way he’s barely refraining from fucking into Shay’s mouth.
Given how much he’s straining against his own breeches, Shay doesn’t mind at all. But his own arousal can wait (even as his cock throbs almost painfully when Haytham moans his name). He intends to wring every drop of pleasure he can out of Haytham today.
He’s bloody well earned it, after finding the Box he’s spent so long searching for.
“Shay,” Haytham says above him, a warning note in his voice; Shay responds by swallowing around him, taking him as deeply as he can manage. Haytham’s hips jerk forward, and Shay can’t help moaning at the taste of him as Haytham spills into his mouth. He could almost come just from watching Haytham like this, if he had any less control over himself.
As it is, it’s a near thing.
Haytham slumps back against the wall, panting heavily, and Shay follows, intent on licking him clean. It doesn’t do anything to lessen how aroused he is. His fingers are still tangled in Shay’s hair, though Haytham loosens his grip somewhat as his breathing begins to steady.
Shay looks up at him from his spot on the floor, and whatever Haytham sees in his expression is enough to make him blush all over again. He averts his gaze, absently carding his fingers through Shay’s hair with a tenderness that Shay wouldn’t necessarily expect from him.
“That counted as taking your time?” he murmurs at last, a wry twist to his lips.
Shay laughs. “It does if it’s only the first round,” he replies.
Comprehension dawns on Haytham’s face. “Ah,” he says, laughing quietly. “That does explain... a few things.”
“Thought it might,” Shay grins. He’s still painfully hard, but he doesn’t want to push Haytham too far, either. He can wait.
Haytham looks down at him again, still playing with Shay’s hair. “I suppose,” he says slowly, “that whatever other plans you may have would be better served by a bed.”
“They would, sir,” he agrees, rising to his feet as he smirks at the Grand Master.
Fortunately, it doesn’t take too long for Haytham to sort himself out enough for the short walk to his bedroom, which Shay is rather grateful for, because his patience is fraying rapidly. He kicks the door closed behind them, already herding Haytham toward the bed as they tug each other’s clothes off in a hurry.
They collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, Haytham kissing Shay back just as desperately as Shay’s kissing him. And Shay all but whines into his mouth as Haytham slides a hand between them and wraps his fingers around Shay’s aching cock.
He breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of Haytham’s neck instead, panting against his skin. “H-Haytham,” he gasps as the Grand Master starts moving his hand, “‘M not... going to... last all that long... if you keep that up...”
The sound of Haytham’s self-satisfied chuckle pulls a moan out of Shay in response, as Haytham murmurs, “That is rather the idea.”
So much for Shay’s plans. With his attention being so badly scattered, though, he can hardly muster up the willpower to be annoyed. The movement of Haytham’s hand is confident in a way Shay doubts it would have been, once, and the only thing he can think to do is roll his hips into it, letting out a rather loud moan that is thankfully muffled against Haytham’s shoulder.
He ends up babbling a bit, he thinks, as Haytham keeps going. Telling Haytham how good it feels, asking him not to stop. Mercifully, he doesn’t, and it isn’t long at all before Shay’s coming in his hand, biting at Haytham’s shoulder to keep himself from being heard by the staff.
He hisses a little at the bite, and Shay kisses the spot afterwards with an apologetic hum. “Sorry, sir,” he says sheepishly. “Couldn’t resist.”
Haytham arches an eyebrow at him when Shay glances at his face, and Shay smirks back at him. “Let me make it up to you?” he asks. He’s going to need a few minutes before he can do what he really wants to, but he can shower Haytham with affection in the meantime.
There’s a glimmer of amusement in Haytham’s eyes when he replies, “I suppose I should allow you the attempt.”
Shay doesn’t need a further invitation to push Haytham over onto his back and nudge his legs apart before settling between them, grinning down at the Grand Master and admiring the way his hair is haloed around his head. He trails his fingers along Haytham’s chest, then leans down to follow that path with his lips instead. Haytham’s breath hitches, and Shay glances up at him through his eyelashes.
“I’ve missed this,” he murmurs. “Getting to be in your bed, having you under me like this.” He follows up his words with a teasing nip, and is rewarded with another hitch in Haytham’s breathing, and his fingers tangling into Shay’s hair once again.
Shay shifts enough to claim Haytham’s lips with his, and relishes in the way Haytham opens his mouth to allow him in further.
Mine, he thinks, though he’s too preoccupied to give voice to the thought. And even when he breaks the kiss, he stays close enough that their lips brush together when he speaks. “How do you want me?” he asks.
Haytham’s grip on his hair tightens briefly. He swallows, then whispers, “Would you... object terribly to my being on top?”
A bolt of pure arousal sweeps through Shay, and he barely bites back a groan as he rolls them over, grunting softly as his back hits the mattress. “Does that answer your question, sir?” he asks, smirking.
Haytham laughs, which is a sound Shay could easily get drunk on. “I suppose it does,” he replies.
They’ve only done this a handful of times, with Shay being fucked rather than the other way around; he has no complaints about it now—or any time, really, but that isn’t the point at all. He watches, instead, as Haytham leans over to the bedside table and rifles through the drawer for a moment before he turns up a bottle of oil, which will certainly serve their purposes.
Shay holds Haytham’s gaze as he pours out some oil for them to use. It isn’t long before Haytham is inside him, neither of them feeling particularly patient, both gasping for breath a little. An experimental roll of his hips draws an answering growl from Haytham’s chest, and then Haytham leans down to claim his lips in a searing kiss as he begins to move, rocking into Shay with intent.
Shay grasps at him in turn, holding Haytham as close as he can without preventing his movement. I love you, I love you, I love you, he thinks, and doesn’t have the breath to spare for the words. He tries to pour it into his kisses instead, though he isn’t entirely sure that Haytham will understand. But that’s alright. Shay will tell him later.
His train of thought is thoroughly scattered when Haytham moves a hand between them to stroke Shay’s cock in time with his thrusts, pushing Shay toward the edge rapidly enough that he arches off the bed with a wordless shout when he comes. Haytham follows him over mere moments later with an unrestrained moan, the sort he’s normally too guarded to allow.
Shay wants to hear him like this more often; now that he’s found the Box, maybe he will. That’s a pleasing thought, which leaves him beaming up at Haytham.
The Grand Master smiles back at him. It’s a smaller one, but no less genuine for it. Haytham pulls out carefully, before collapsing onto the mattress next to him, something soft in his eyes.
“Think you’re still up for more?” Shay asks, raising his eyebrows.
Haytham huffs a laugh. “You are insatiable,” he comments, but the way he idly trails his fingers along Shay’s chest certainly doesn’t feel like a no.
“Only for you,” Shay replies. It makes Haytham’s breath catch, his touch faltering briefly. Shay saves him from having to find something to say by leaning in to kiss him again, something that Haytham returns eagerly.
They’re both rather sensitive at the moment, so Shay keeps his movements slow, more gentle than he could have brought them to be at first. It’s still enough to leave Haytham panting and clutching at the sheets before long, staring up at Shay with lust-dark eyes.
Gentle turns to teasing after a bit, with Shay keeping to feather-light touches that don’t provide any real relief as precome steadily drips from Haytham’s cock. And he can’t help but grin at the frustrated whine that Haytham lets out as Shay draws his hand away again.
“Yes?” he says in a sing-song tone. “Can I help you?”
It’s clearly a struggle for Haytham to piece together any words at all, as he gives Shay the fiercest glare he can likely manage right now. “I... have not,” he gasps, “known you to... be such a tease.”
He rolls his hips toward Shay’s hand rather fruitlessly, and Shay chuckles.
“I’ll give you what you want,” he promises, “eventually.” He punctuates his words with rubbing a hand along Haytham’s thigh. “It’ll feel even better when I do.”
He really wouldn’t mind hearing Haytham ask for it, either. And it really is great fun leaving him balanced on the very edge of getting to come again. The gasps and broken-off moans are a lovely counterpoint to the scratches he’s left down Shay’s back and the way he bites at Shay’s lower lip when they kiss.
“Shay,” Haytham begs when he pulls back. “Please. Please, Shay, I—” He breaks off with a louder moan as Shay curls his fingers around his length more firmly this time.
“Shh,” Shay whispers. “I’ve got you,” he says. And now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he doesn’t waste any more time in tipping Haytham over the edge, drawing out his orgasm for as long as he can manage. Haytham nearly sobs through it as he comes in wave after wave, shuddering in clear relief.
Shay only draws away when Haytham starts batting at his shoulders with a breathless gasp of, “Too—too much.” And then he sinks back against the bed, panting for breath.
He isn’t likely able to take more than that, at the moment, but Shay is rather satisfied with the sight of the Grand Master, normally so put-together and proper, being a disheveled mess, and knowing it’s all because of him. He presses a kiss to Haytham’s temple before sliding off the bed to grab something to clean him up with.
Shay is rather pleasantly surprised that Haytham doesn’t so much as suggest that he depart, once they’re finished. Of course, some of that may be that he’s still visibly dazed, but even still. The way he’s nestled into Shay suggests that Haytham doesn’t want him to go.
That’s good, because Shay doesn’t plan on going anywhere. He runs his fingers through Haytham’s hair, absently humming under his breath.
Haytham doesn’t say a word, doesn’t speak except to curl in a little closer. If it weren’t for that, Shay might think he’d fallen asleep.
Shay presses a kiss to the top of Haytham’s head. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
Haytham breathes in sharply and whispers, very softly, “I know.”
Still running his fingers through Haytham’s hair, Shay smiles. “I’d certainly hope so, at this point,” he teases lightly.
“It has been... quite some time,” Haytham agrees.
“Aye,” Shay says. “More than eighteen years, now.” Sixteen, since Haytham sent him after the Box.
But now, if Haytham will have him, Shay has no plans to go anywhere else.
Haytham hums a quiet agreement, and doesn’t say a word.
“Get some sleep,” Shay whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Haytham nods against him, and is out quickly enough for Shay to be very certain he hasn’t been sleeping well lately.
Shay watches him sleep for a time. “I love you,” he breathes, before letting his own eyes slip closed.