#Shaytham smut

[gococogo]

Day Two: Thigh Riding

2023 Kinktober Masterlist coming after October

Synopsis: Shay and Haytham are on a mission to steal some reports. But Shay pushes a few buttons that has the Grandmaster uncaring of their current situation.

Word Count: 1.2K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Thigh Riding/Slight voyuerism {woops}

Shay hears the voices before Haytham does. Maybe because his senses are sharper than Haytham’s or maybe because the Grandmaster is running is mouth off behind him. Shay stops in his tracks and Haytham runs into him, almost toppling them both over the top of the roof they are currently scaling.

And with being inside an Assassin’s Den, now is not the time to be falling off high places.

Early this morning, Haytham thought it would be a good idea for just the two of them to sneak into this Den. All to retrieve ship routes. Something that Shay could have done by himself, but Haytham wanted to tag along. Haytham knows that he can do it, he’s done this before. But why today? Shay didn’t ask.

Which leaves them here. With Shay having to push Haytham back across the roof to a small closet like spot in which they can hide in. The Grandmaster curses and snaps under his breath but Shay doesn’t bother in paying attention. The last thing Shay wants is to get caught and having to fight all the way to the documents.

The spot is small. Nearly not big enough for one man let along two. Haytham has to lean his back up against the side wall, knees bent and in between Shay’s. All while the Irishman stands at a ninety degree angle over him. Haytham’s hat had been knocked off in the ruckus and Shay doesn’t know where it is. He just hopes it isn’t outside on the building. Cause the only thing that’s hiding the two from the outside world is an old tattered piece of cloth that hangs in front of this tiny shed like closet thing.

Shay stills his breathing and listens to the voices coming closer. He’s guessing two roof guards that are doing their routes, making sure everything is in check. Their conversation is muffled, words folding in on each other until they come closer.

Haytham opens his mouth to make his own comment but Shay quickly slaps a hand over his mouth. If Shay were anyone else, he knows he would be dead right now. Thrown outside and to fend for himself. But the glare that Shay receives is one that he knows he’s going to regret this later.

“-just not sure if I can stay here any longer is all.”

“I know, you have a wife now. Everyone knows.”

The two of them stop on the other side of the roof, most likely where Shay and Haytham just were. They continue their conversation and Haytham huffs from behind the hand still on his face.

Shay takes his hand off Haytham’s mouth with a quiet sorry. He shuffles in his place and tries to make due of how he’s standing. But he ends up sitting down on Haytham’s knees. The Grandmaster grunts as he has to push against the wall so that he doesn’t slip down with Shay following on top of him.

He doesn’t want to meet the stare that he knows Haytham is giving him. He peeps out past the cloth, watching the two guards stand on the edge of the roof talking about their mundane lives. The both of them could sneak up behind them and kill them easy.

“Are you right there?” Haytham hisses in a hush.

“Shh.”

As soon as the sound leaves the Irishman’s mouth, he can feel the glare he’s receiving. The last thing he wants to do is meet it. Shay moves to stand up but Haytham pulls him right back down by his chest straps.

He finally meets the dark eyes of murder that face him. Shay swallows thickly, not moving a muscle. One thing Shay knows is that if Haytham wanted to do something, he would. He wouldn’t care if the entire Den heard them.

“Haytham, we need to get those reports,” Shay tries to argue quietly.

The hand on his chest travels down his stomach to grab at his crotch. A bit painfully at so. A pressure that has Shay hissing. In return -which is something that Shay should have seen coming- Haytham covers his mouth with a hand.

“Those can wait for now,” the Grandmaster speaks darkly.  

He’s pissed Haytham off.

The two guards outside wonder off, their voices disappearing as they move to a different roof. Shay is just glad that they were so involved in their own conversation that they didn’t realize what was going on behind them. Talking about the fellas wife must have been real important.

Haytham kneads Shay’s clothed dick suddenly. And Shay is so glad that the guards are gone because he inhales loudly through his nose. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about anyone outside anymore but the thought still lingers in the back of his head. But it is hard to concentrate when Haytham is looking at him with such a dark sin filled stare.

The hand over his mouth and crotch disappear to only wrap themselves on Shay’s waist. He brings the hunter down fully onto his lap, their legs intertwining so that he’s sitting on only one of Haytham’s thighs. Shay pants as his already half hard cock grinds up against the man below him.

And that is what Haytham wants. He knows the Grandmaster’s game. And every single time, Shay falls for it.

At first, Haytham ushers Shay’s hips forward and grinding his dick against his thigh. The friction has him panting past gritted teeth. Trying his best not to start something they most likely won’t finish until much later.

“Come on, Shay,” Haytham urges on deeply.

And with that, he’s fallen. He’s broken. Shay grinds against Haytham’s thigh as he holds onto his shoulder for support. It’s cramped enough as it is but he’s able to move just enough to get some friction. Haytham watches intensely as Shay moves like a dog in heat.

The buzz that Shay gets lost in has him panting and grunting softly, forgetting where he is. And Haytham guides his hips with each movement, his touch burning hot even through the layers of clothes he has on. Shay can feel himself getting close, and Haytham can see that too.

But, before Shay can get anywhere, he’s stopped. And not by Haytham telling him to, or Haytham holding his hips still. No.

Haytham throws him off and out onto the roof.

Shay falls through the curtain with a thwomp and onto the roof with a loud crash and a grunt. The wind is knocked out of him and he wheezes for air all while trying to be quiet. But it’s a goddamn miracle if someone didn’t hear that. He just hopes those two are still talking about their wives. Shay rolls onto his side as he holds his chest, trying to breathe in a full lung of air.

Haytham steps out onto the roof as if nothing happened. As if he wasn’t just leading someone on with sexual intent. He pats his coat down and peers down his nose at Shay.

“Do get up, Shay. We have reports to steal,” Haytham comments as if bored.

As if Shay isn’t as hard as rock in his own pants right now, all while trying to collect himself and inhale air. Sometimes, Haytham can be a real petty bitch.

“Aye, sir,” he groans but it comes more out as a pathetic wheeze.

[krankittoeleven]

Fanfic Tag Game

Thank you thank you for the tag @brasideios! I think some things have changed since last time I did this and there's some new peeps around so here we go!

1. How many fics do you have on AO3? 18

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 226,152

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently JJK, Trigun, Assassin's Creed and Final Fantasy 12 (LMAO) are fandoms I have fics in progress for that will likely see the light of day. That's generally what I consider a fandom I "write for".

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. But Like a Refugee (Trigun 98, Vashwood, E) 2. Because the Night (Trigun Stampede, Kniveswood, E) 3. we were hungry before (JJK, Nanago, E) 4. Sweets for the Sweet (Trigun 98, Vashwood, T) 5. a prelude to infinity (JJK, Nanago, M, WIP)

Jeez, Trigun and JJK really just told all my other fandoms to move over lol

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yep 99% of the time. If I miss something it's not intentional.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really think I have one posted at the moment. I usually resolve my angst or give a fic at least a hopeful ending. Some things coming down the pipeline might fit in future iterations of this post, though. lol

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sweets for the Sweet, probably. It's pure, unadulterated Vashwood fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not specifically on AO3, but I've gotten anon hate here (that seems fic related) and I just snort, delete and move on.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, these days I tend to write fairly explicit but still vanilla sex. Haven't felt like writing anything particularly wild lately, but not against it.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I wrote a GO/Cosmic Horror fic ages ago that is lost to time and space (fried hard drive and purges). Other than that I have started a ton of crossovers but never finished any. I am however nearing the completion of a Trigun/JJK crossover (Midvalley the Hornfreak/Nanami Kento for the 2 people in the world this might interest LOL) It was supposed to be crack for cracks sake but it became crack treated seriously. LMAO

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet, but maybe soon?! Got asked for permission in regards to we were hungry before, so we'll see if that happens! :D

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No but wouldn't be adverse to it. I've done writer/Artist collabs before, though.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I refuse to pick only one, deal with it. :D Kenren/Tenpou (Saiyuki Gaiden), Ineffable Husbands (GO), Vashwood (Trigun), Kakairu (Naruto), Shaytham (AC Rogue), Ubba/Vili (AC Valhalla), Nanago (JJK), Balthier/Basch (FF12), Ignoct (FF15). Throughout every fandom I will apparently fall face first into the ground for any variation of the stoic introvert/excitable extrovert pair.

15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I will not doom any of my WIPS to that fate. I remain optimistic that I'll finished them all.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Writing dialogue, banter & humor.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I know I have plenty of technical weaknesses with writing, but my true weaknesses are just not executing the idea I started with and terrible follow through/commitment to finishing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Whatever someone wants to do with their fic is fine by me. I do what I need to do to get certain points across.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Saiyuki

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

We were hungry before (JJK, Nanago, E) and Water of Life (AC Valhalla, Ubba/Vili, E, WIP) because I've put my blood sweat and tears into both of them (lots of tears, for real). Also, they both take me home (JJK, GetoNanaGo, M) because, for once, a fic turned out EXACTLY like I wanted it to.

I will tag @madnessmadness, @beelzebby666, @lifewtr, @akashadarkblade, @troublemakingrebel, @vault-heck. I think most of my other writing mutuals have been tagged. If I missed you feel free to join in, I've truly lost track of who does and doesn't write these days.

[ao3feed-xicheng]

Clarity

by Shaytham It's as if the morning fog has lifted, and he is seeing the world for the first time in stark clarity - finally waking bruised and bloody from the never-ending nightmare. But, the thing about reality is that it isn't kind or gentle. It just is. Reality hurts. Truth hurts. Love is absolute agony, but in love there is also healing. Lan Xichen stares at the small silver bell in his trembling hands, its violet tassel wound loosely around his fingers. For the first time in a long time, he feels something dangerously close to hope. Words: 2817, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Lan Qiren, Jin Ling | Jin Rulan, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Original Characters Relationships: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin/Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Constipation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, until it's not, Courting Rituals, Idiots in Love, Drunken Shenanigans, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gay Panic, Post-Canon, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Character Study, POV Alternating, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Not Beta Read, Eventual Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Disassociation, First Kiss, First Time, Virgin Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Virgin Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Wedding Planning via https://ift.tt/DH7aO2t

[gwen-the-assassin]

Random Assassin’s Creed Thought

Me: We can watch the final “Fifty Grades of Shay” ...wait, Fifty Shades of Grey this weekend.

SO: Shay? Shay? 

Me: Shit. 

SO: *implies writing smut” You need to write this now. 

My lover boy has caught onto my fictional crush on my favorite Templar. Unless I am thinking about Shaytham

[glacierllane]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway Characters: Shay Cormac, Haytham Kenway, Christopher Gist, Charles Lee, Thomas Hickey, William Johnson, Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Sneaking Around, Fluff, Fluff and Smut Summary:

A series of shaytham one shots that I just happen to conjure up. Most of them would probably be explicit.

[gococogo]

Having Earned More | Shaytham

「Synopsis」 : After having ran around New York nearly all night after the ordeal with Hope, Haytham finally finds Shay in the Greenwich Tavern. Taking him home with worry in his gut, Haytham wants Shay to know that the Templars are not the Assassins. That Haytham will treat him better than them.

「Word count」 : 3.87K

Genre: Sad Shit

Paring: Shay Cormac / Haytham Kenway

[Warnings] : Praise/Blow Job/Sir Kink

Arriving at the front door of Shay’s estate, it isn’t the house owner that greets Haytham. Gist, the Morrigan’s first mate peers through the small gap of the door to see who’s knocking this late at night. Haytham could ask the same of Gist. Seeing that it’s the Grandmaster brings Gist to attention and he opens the door fully, taking his hat off and placing it over his heart. Haytham wants to ask why Gist is at the estate without his Captain but more pressing stuff is the first on his mind.

“Master Kenway, what brings you ‘round here so late?” Gist asks first with a light chuckle.

From when Haytham last checked his pocket watch, it was around nine at night. He was meant to meet with Shay earlier but the man had disappeared after the whole ordeal with Hope. Someone that Haytham didn’t have the chance of meeting nor does he realize he wanted to. Not with all the ruckus she put New York through. But he knows that Shay thinks differ to her than others. Haytham doesn’t know how close they were but what he could see through Shay’s mask is that he had feelings for her.

Haytham has only had reports of Hope’s body from his men near the docks. But no word on Shay since the whole ordeal. And it had Haytham worried sick even though he won’t show it outwardly. He doesn’t want his best Templar to come up dead. So, Haytham came to Fort Arsenal in hope to find the Captain.

“I’m after Shay,” Haytham responds bluntly.

“The Captain isn’t in right now,” Gist answers with a sheepish smile.

Haytham isn’t amused and it quickly makes Shay’s first mate straighten is posture and lose the smile. Gist has a habit of joking or smile at the wrong given time and it’s something Haytham has just gotten use to. At least he would prefer Gist over Hickey and that’s saying something. But he would never say it out loud to anyone’s face.

“I haven’t seen him since earlier tonight and I need a report,” the Grandmaster says more firmly.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning-“

Haytham stops the man with a raised hand. He doesn’t want any unnecessary talk right now. He just needs to know where Shay is. “I want to hear it from your Captain. Where is he.”

Gist knows that lying will only get him in further trouble and dodging the truth won’t get him any further. He gives up quite easily. He must be worried for his own Captain.

“Last I heard he was in the Greenwich Tavern, sir. It’s on the other side of here-“

Haytham cuts off Gist again, “I know where it is.”

Without another word, or a goodbye, Haytham is turning on the spot and making his way down the pathway. His pace a little too quick for a Grandmaster heading to fetch one of his fellow Templars. Haytham knows why and if he’s being truthful he would admit that Shay has become his favourite even though he knows he shouldn’t have favourites. If Charles Lee found out then that would be the end of their friendship.

But he would be lying if he didn’t say Shay is the best out of them. Yes, every other Templar has their benefits to the cause and their needs and wants. But Shay being stern, but kind is something that isn’t seen within the other Templars.

It might come down to Shay having been on both sides of the cause now. Being both Assassin and Templar. But even Haytham knows that isn’t true because he has met some mean son of bitches that have come from the Assassins and willingly joined the Templars. Most of them have died now, or what he had heard from Britain, but he doesn’t really talk to the Order over seas now.  

Greenwich Tavern is loud and rowdy tonight. Haytham wonders if Shay is amongst the rowdiness of the place. He has never seen Shay drunk nor intoxicated in the couple of months he’s known the Irishman. He doesn’t know what to expect. In his mind he’s already picturing Hickey or Gist drunk as a skunk with a woman bouncing on their knee and their ale swaying above their head as they sing at the top of their lungs some awful chanty. He can’t imagine Shay doing such a thing but liquor does something to a man that nothing else does.  

Stepping inside, the Grandmaster doesn’t see Shay at first. Other men are laughing and standing up instead of sitting down. Whores cling to men for their money and the men cling to them for other reasons. Haytham’s nose slightly curls as he walks further into the tavern, prying his eyes off the men to look for someone else familiar.  

He doesn’t notice Shay at first because the man is without that black and red coat he wears everyday. It’s almost a shock to Haytham to see him in just his red Templar vest and his white shirt. He’s hunched over the bar with his head in his arms past out. But as Haytham nears and see a better angle of the man, he realizes he was wrong and that Shay is conscious still. He’s twirling a shot glass on the bar in silence and he’s in his own little world. Seeing the well respected Captain of the Morrigan reduced to sorrow is disheartening a little. At least Shay is well physically though. He can’t see any marks or blood patches on Shay that would tell he’s been harmed.

Haytham decides to not say a word and sit down on the stool next to the man. Another shot is poured in front of Shay while a coin is tossed onto the bar. Shay takes the shot and downs it quickly, hissing at the sting it must leave on his throat. Haytham finds himself staring and he can’t look away. He wants to take this small moment to take in Shay. See him without Shay putting on a strong or formal face for him. Some of his hair has fallen out of his band and tumbles over his face. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hinting at that he’s been sitting at this bar and crying. Or has cried somewhere in private and come here afterwards.

Something comes forward in Haytham that he hasn’t felt in ages. A need to protect over the one that has been hurt. He wants to take all the pain away and inflict it upon the one that harmed. He wants Shay to know that there’s no need to look to the past again. That Haytham is right here. But right now, those thoughts and feelings are quickly pushed down. Deep and dark.

A couple of minutes do past that Haytham stares at Shay before the Irishman takes notice to prying eyes. Shay gives the Grandmaster a quick glance out of the corner of his eyes, feeling a gaze upon him. He looks forward again before whipping his head to Haytham. It’s almost comedic, the first initial fear that crosses Shay’s face when he see the Grandmaster beside him. Haytham has seen this man go up against five men, jump off buildings and cross oceans filled with enemy ships, all without breaking a sweat or showing fear. He more or less laughs at the adrenaline that takes a hold of him. But right now he’s more afraid of Haytham than a man with a gun pointed at his face.

“Master Kenway!” Shay stutters his exclaim.

Shay’s speech is clear. He isn’t drunk or even close to it. He’s more miserable than anything else and he’s come here away from his crew so they don’t see him like this. It would be demeaning. To see their Captain at their lowest and risk having it differ their loyalty. Even though Haytham knows it won’t but there is a pride that comes to being a Captain of the Morrigan that he has to live up to.

“I came by your place to get your report about tonight. I only found Gist,” Haytham tells him straight up.

Shay collects himself quickly, smoothing out his hair and clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t,” he responds. “But I do want to know what you learnt off the woman.”

Haytham watches Shay’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. Along with Haytham’s interest in Shay, there may also be some attraction there as well. Shay is a handsome man, anyone could see that. But it’s the thought and want of doing so much more than addressing another man is good looking that is the problem in this day and age.

“I think we should head back to my estate to speak about this,” Shay answers. “In a more private setting with no prying ears.”

Haytham nods, having to agree. “Lead the way,” he gestures a hand outward.

Shay is sure on his feet as he stands, firm and planted. Even when he’s on the Morrigan his legs are solid. It also tells that Shay can hold his liquor unlike other Templars. Most likely the Irish in him but Haytham is the same due to his father. So maybe the both of them are just lucky enough.

The Captain opens the door for Haytham and the brisk wind outside is a difference to the warmth of inside. But he’s glad he’s outside and away from the smell of sweat, alcohol and the lingering scent of bile. Shay doesn’t seem to be effected by the cold as Haytham is. Haytham is a summer baby and has always liked the warmth the season brings.

Maybe the north has just frozen over a part of Shay’s brain that he isn’t effected by the cold anymore. He spends enough time there that, that could be the case. The amusing thought brings a small smile to Haytham’s lips that he makes sure Shay doesn’t see. They begin their slow walk down the street of New York back to Fort Arsenal, Shay’s estate.

“Did you come straight here after your mission?” Haytham asks out of curiosity.

Shay glances at the Grandmaster from the corner of his eye but his gaze drifts to the ground instead. He’s quite, as if living through memories of tonight. Events looping in his head like a broken vinyl.

“I went back home afterwards. I had to be alone after tonight, Sir” Shay begins. “Gist was there instead to greet me and so the Morrigan is being readied for tomorrow early morning. I left shortly after ordering Gist.”

Haytham nods. “Will tonight stop your search?”

Shay is quick to answer a simple and firm, “No.”

“Good.”

Haytham wants to ask more about Hope. But he doesn’t think it’s appropriate at the given time. Shay is still mourning and hurting. The rest of the walk is quiet. Shay’s estate comes into view and yet still not a word is said. The rest of their conversation is needed to be spoken behind closed doors.

Shay opens the front door for Haytham and once inside, it is instantly warmer. Haytham takes off his hat and cloak, hanging it up on the hooks to his left. A fire place burns to his right and it looks to that fresh wood has been piled on.

“Gist!?” Shay calls out as he closes the door behind them both.

There is no reply. Must have left shortly after Haytham came around. But he finds it better to know that it is just the two of them in here. He wants to just talk to Shay. He only thinks he can put up with Shay right now.  

Said man moves over to their left where chairs and a coffee table sit. On the coffee table is a half empty bottle of whiskey that Shay offers with a silent gesture.

“No, thank you,” Haytham says with a small gesture of his hand.

Shay takes a seat in a single lofa chair and almost moulds into it. Haytham sits in the left hand one and sits forward, not wanting to get too comfortable. The papers on the table are all of ship reports. Ships that Shay owns and sends on little missions of their own to bring back trade or loot. From what Haytham can see without prying too much is that there are more successful ones than failed ones.  

“I’ll start with what I plan on doing next,” Shay starts. “Gist has told me that he’s heard that Cook is somewhere up north. Maybe in Perce or Anticosti. I’ll send a letter out because he could lead me to my next target.”

“Good. I want you to report back to me straight away once you’re done,” Haytham answers. “I’ll be here in New York.”

Shay nods before he takes a short swig of the whiskey in hand. He makes a parched hiss at the burn of the liquor that has his nose scrunching up. Haytham swallows thickly as he watches a small dripple of the liquor runs down Shay’s chin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and draws his attention back to Haytham, leaning more closer to the Grandmaster.

“I’ll do just that,” Shay tips the bottle to him.

Haytham keeps his eyes on the Irishman even though Shay has gone back to looking off in the distance. He isn’t drunk. Haytham knows drunk. The man is deep in thought and Haytham wants to distract him. It must take a lot of whiskey for Shay to get drunk and that must be an effort on itself. There are easier distraction and Haytham is surprised that he hasn’t gone for them yet. Like whoring or gambling. Or blood spilling.

“How did the Brotherhood treat you?” Haytham asks out of the blue.

Shay hears the question but he’s taken a back by it. “What do you mean?” He asks, raising a brow with his words.

“I’m just curious is all.” Haytham waves his hand. “Just curious about how the Assassin’s work, if you don’t mind my prying.”

Shay licks his lips and he becomes flustered, his face turning a flush pink. He thinks for a moment, having to place the bottle of whiskey back onto the table.

“No, you’re prying isn’t unwelcomed. Just none of you’s have really asked too into it is all,” Shay starts but pauses a moment, looking the Grandmaster up and down to make sure he’s serious. “I was still technically in training and during then I thought they wanted me to be my best. But looking back on it, all I got were insults and comments on how I could improve. Even now, they still seem to get under my skin.”

“Did they do this with any other apprentices?”

“Not that I knew of,” Shay shrugs.

That sparks a small fire of annoyance in Haytham. How ignorant of the Assassins. But it is their loss now that they lost their best man without even realizing it. Stupid, stupid fools.

“Do you feel better treated with the Templars?” Haytham pokes.

This for some reason this takes Shay off guard. He looks dumbfound and he doesn’t know what to say. A satisfaction comes over the Grandmaster at seeing Shay a loss of words.

“Yes, I do. Under the Templar’s command I do,” Shay replies back softly.

At the satisfaction of that reply, Haytham suddenly gets up out of his chair. He makes his way over to Shay’s chair and stops before him, towering over the Captain. Haytham takes a risk. But Shay can’t pry his eyes off the Grandmaster, sitting back in his chair as Haytham stands so his legs are between his knees. Haytham reaches out and holds Shay’s chin between his thumb and pointer, feeling the short stubble that has come over his face.

“Do I treat you better?” He asks lowly.

Shay swallows, his brown eyes becoming hooded. “Yes.” Haytham has never heard his voice this soft before. He wants more. He needs more.

Haytham places his hands on Shay’s needs and opens them as he falls to his knees. Shay’s brown eyes go wide at the sight of the Grandmaster on his knees. He kneads his thumb into Shay’s inner thigh, earning himself a hiss drawn through teeth.  

“May I continue?” Haytham asks firmly but huskily.  

Shay nods, but when Haytham doesn’t move he realizes he wants verbal confirmation. “Yes,” Shay breathes out through barely parted lips.

One of Haytham’s hands move to Shay’s crotch and knead softly at first. A shaky breath is his response and Shay holds onto the arm rests like he’s holding onto the Morrigan’s wheel while a storm is throwing her about.  

“When’s the last time someone treated you well, Shay?” Haytham asks as he presses down a little harder on the Captain.

Shay’s body flinches as he groans deep in his throat and his eyes flutter shut. It must be a long time if Shay is this sensitive. But it’s perfect. It’s what Haytham wants.

“Before I joined,” Shay manages to get out.

“The Templars?”

“My former.”

Haytham pauses for a moment. “It’s been that long?”

Shay gives a short nod in return.

“Let me do this for you, Shay,” Haytham admits as he replaces his hand over Shay’s crotch with a kiss. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Ma-ah Master Kenway,” Shay pants out.

The simplest touch from Haytham sends an electric shock through Shay’s body. He hadn’t realized just how long it’s been since he’s had a meaningful touch. Yes he’s slept with whores and such during his time with the Brotherhood but they all meant nothing. Nothing like this. He’s missed this.

He’s had his eye on the Grandmaster since they first talked. But he wanted to keep it professional. Wanted to keep on track with the current task at hand. Needing to stay ahead of everything and everyone. But obviously Haytham has been looking at him as well. And by God does it feel good to be seen.

Haytham mouths Shay’s dick through his pants. He wants Shay to know that he means this. That he wants to make him feel good. Haytham begins undoing his belt buckle and pulls down Shay’s pants to only expose his dick. It springs out, already hard and weeping a little. It’s a decent length, something Haytham would have imagined Shay having.

“Sir,” Shay is able to moan out, as he feels the Grandmaster’s hot breath over his cock.  

The plea goes straight to the warmth growing in Haytham’s gut. He can feel himself semi hard but tonight isn’t about him. Tonight is for Shay.  

“I want to make you feel good, Shay. Better than you have while you were with them,” Haytham admits with hooded eyes.

A coil of pleasure is already tightening inside of Shay’s gut and balls. By God he never would have thought that tonight would go like this. He fully expected to try and get drunk and wake up in an ally when the sun came up to head to the Morrigan. Or sleep on the Morrigan tonight so he’s ready for tomorrow. But that had all gone differ when the Grandmaster had popped up at the same tavern as him. For a moment, he thought he was going to be suspended. The Assassins have in the past.

The shock that goes through Shay’s body when lips wrap around the head of his dick is strong enough that it almost knocks the wind out of him. Haytham concentrates on relaxing his throat, working his way down Shay’s dick little by little. He squeezes Shay’s thighs, hard enough to leave bruises behind.

The hot wetness of Haytham’s mouth is enough to push Shay over the edge but he wants to hold on for a few moments longer. But he is very out of practice and he finds himself not being to last as long as he once could.

Hands are suddenly grabbing at Haytham’s hair. Shay doesn’t tug or push him further down, they hold on for mere support. Shay breathes heavily, trying to supress the groans and moans wanting to escape from his mouth.

Haytham finally relaxes his throat enough to take down the rest of Shay. Swallowing all of him greedily until his nose is in Shay’s dark pubes. Haytham’s grip on the Captain’s thigh, tears pricking at his eyes as he holds himself there for a moment before pulling himself off. He holds back a cough and catches his breath before going back to Shay’s dick. He settles in for a steady rhythm, Shay’s hands following his head movements.

Shay’s hips stutter upwards into his mouth and instantly, Haytham is holding onto his hips. He presses him down into the chair, holding him in place and digging his thumbs in. A whine is drawn from Shay that is beautiful to the ears.

Shay’s grip tightens in his hair but he doesn’t pull Haytham off. “Sir, I’m not going to-ah,” he has to take a moment to catch his breath. “To la-ahst much longer.”

Good.

Haytham moves his hands around to grab Shay’s ass. He squeezes before lifting Shay towards him, burying his own face into his crotch. When Shay said he couldn’t last much longer, he meant he was hanging on by a thread. And having Haytham take down all of him sends him over the edge with a choked cry. Shay curls inwards, holding onto Haytham’s head with both hands and keeping him there.

Haytham keeps himself positioned as Shay comes down his throat. He breathes heavily through his nose, concentrating on swallowing all of Shay and to not gag or choke. He doesn’t want to make a mess.

Once he feels Shay relax against him, Haytham slowly pulls himself off of his cock. Shay’s hands fall off of his hair as he falls backwards into the chair, breathing heavily and staring far from now.

Haytham’s hair is a mess and it fall everywhere. He wipes the saliva from his face with the back of his sleeve and fixes his hair back into his ribbon. But he stays on his knees for a moment, waiting for Shay to come to. The Captain brings his attention back to Haytham and a concerned look comes over his features.

“What about yourself, sir?” Shay asks as he runs a hand over his hair.

Haytham shakes his head before bringing himself to his feet. He leans forward so that their noses are barely touching. Shay’s nose is cold, almost freezing despite it being warm inside.

“Tonight was for you,” he hushes. “I want you to come back with good news.”

Shay grabs Haytham’s face and brings him in for a kiss, tasting himself on the Grandmaster. The kiss is slow and sloppy, testing the other’s boundaries and not wanting to push further. But it quickly gets heated, wanting more of the other. Haytham holds onto Shay’s vest, fisting his hands into the red fabric. All while Shay holds Haytham’s face as if he’s going to disappear any minute.

They finally pull away, having to catch their breath. Haytham almost feels light headed he gives a small chuckle.

“Aye aye,” Shay finally answers cockily.  

[gococogo]

Day Eleven: Vampire/Blood

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist will come after October

Synopsis: Shay and Haytham are out on a longer voyage than usual. Haytham hasn't fed in a while and his hunger is getting to him. He doesn't want to attack Shay crew, so the Captain gives himself up.

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Assassin's Creed Rogue

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Blood/nsfw/Anal/Desperation/Biting/Vampire

The storm had caused havoc across the Morrigan. Some sails are torn and are having to repaired as they go. There wasn’t too much damage due to Shay’s sailing though. Any other Captain with less experience and less determination would have had their ship been ripped apart and thrown about in a storm like that. Yet Shay had gotten them out of there in one piece. But, it was still enough to set them back a couple of days… or three.

And it was enough to send Haytham over the edge.

It was that night of the news of delay that Shay found the Grandmaster in his quarters looking over his fleet reports with his back turned to him. Shay closes the door behind him with a click and locks it.

Haytham’s red eyes snap to him over his shoulder.

Knowing what the Grandmaster is, isn’t some secret within the Templar order. A creature of the night that feeds on the blood of humans to sustain their well beings. Nightwalkers and lovers of the moon. The British adopted the name vampire many years ago and the name stuck.

It should have scared Shay when he first heard that the Grandmaster of the Colonial American Rite was a vampire, but he only found himself intrigued in the unknown. He had seen a city fall to him disturbing an ancient site from people that lived millions of years before them. What is it to say that unfathomable creatures that don’t obey human laws might live among him.  

And this wouldn’t be his first blood donation to Haytham.

The Grandmaster looks away, as if ashamed that Shay already knows what’s coming.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Haytham speaks lowly.

Shay moves forward, assuring the other with a hand on his upper arm. As far as Shay’s knowledge goes, Haytham was not born a creature, he was made. Turned when he had saved his sister and Birch’s last act on Haytham was a sin that would take him to the bottom of hell.

It was late one night when Haytham had told him the tale. Because he knew Shay wanted to ask but didn’t want to pry. Many other vampires are thousands of years old. But here Haytham is, still reasonably in his human years.

“The storm came by surprise. We couldn’t have expected it,” Shay tries to reassure even though he knows his words do little.

And in fact, it only has Haytham scowling downwards at the table where his hands grip the edges tightly. Shay’s hand falls from his arm as he steps away. He makes his way over to his weapons and clothes rack while unbuckling all the straps that crisscross his body. He neatly hangs them up before shrugging off his heavy coat and doing the same. Then follows his vest, the leather armour he wears and then lastly his shirt, all folded up and placed away.

He can feel Haytham’s eyes on his back but it isn’t anything romantic or alluring. It feels predatory. The delay in returning back to New York has set Haytham’s feeding back. Shay knew the risks of having him aboard and having such a tight schedule and yet he thought all would be fine yet here they are. Haytham had told him he had fed before, but this, this is different.

It’s not that Shay dislikes this. He would gladly give himself up to Haytham to save any of his crew meeting a much less pleasant fate. It is just the pain. His hand subconsciously runs over the nape of his neck where fresh scars lie from Haytham. The first time was the worst. But Shay will never admit that.

After kicking his boots off, he keeps his pants on and walks over to the bed. He sits down on the edge and meets hooded red eyes from across the room. Haytham hasn’t moved an inch. He reminds Shay of a cougar waiting to pounce, hunched over and staring without breathing.

“Come here, Haytham,” Shay coos over. “No need to be standing there with a frown.”

At that, the vampire huffs in annoyance and bows his head, his shoulders slouching. He takes off his hat and places it atop of the fleet reports and his cloak soon follows neatly folded. He walks over silently, his feet almost not making a sound against the floor of the ship. He stands in front of Shay, looking down his nose at him.

As much as Haytham wants to act or look like his vampirism isn’t affecting him, it is visible that is jaw is clenched and his hands are tightly fisted. And he isn’t talking. He’s more silent than usual and that only means his mind is running like a ship sailing at twenty knots through a thrashing storm.

As if doing this a million times before, Shay begins unbuttoning Haytham’s coat and undressing him. The one thing that they’ve figured out to make this a more pleasant experience for Shay is through sex. When Haytham is only completely naked is when he leans down to Shay. But it isn’t for a kiss. Shay stops him with two fingers over his mouth and slowly pushes him back.

“Can’t get greedy now,” Shay firmly yet softly states.

Haytham’s mouth is slightly parted and two sets of fangs can be seen. It’s almost like looking into the mouth of an animal. He licks Shay’s fingers before taking them into his hot mouth. His fangs threaten to pierce his skin as he sucks on Shay’s appendages. There was one time that Haytham had bitten down, lost in his own world and nearly took his fingers with it. So right now no one would give Shay shit for being a little weary as his heart beats rapidly in his chest. But his dick likes this, hardening in his pants.

Haytham’s red eyes stare intently at him as he makes work of sucking his fingers. When Shay bids it enough, he takes them out and shuffles up the bed. Haytham quickly follows, his eyes never leaving Shay for a moment. Haytham takes off Shay’s pants a little too eagerly before he comes down face to face with him. He licks his lips, staring at Shay’s own.

He opens his mouth to say something but Shay brings him down for a kiss instead. Haytham’s fangs graze against his lips, threatening to make him bleed. But Shay pulls away as Haytham’s teeth snap together centimetres away from his face.

“Enough of that,” Shay teases.

Haytham huffs slightly before he pushes Shay back on the bed. He parts his legs, shuffling himself in between them so that their dicks are flushed against each other. Shay is already hard and ready but if they go too quickly, there’s a risk of Haytham loosing control. And with a hungry vampire breathing at your neck, that’s the last thing Shay wants. He doesn’t want to end tonight with his head on the other side of the room away from his body.

Shay grunts as his ass is propped into the air. Haytham doesn’t waste any time by licking a strip over his ass. A shiver runs down the captain’s spine as Haytham’s silver tongue does it job of loosening things up. His tongue dives into his ass, hot and wet and-

Fangs prick at Shay’s cheeks and he flinches slightly. But Haytham feels it and stops, looking up at him from under his brow. He stares as he continues opening Shay up for the main course. Haytham’s mouth ventures up to his inner thigh, one hand cradling his leg as if it’s something delicate. His plump lips a breath away over his skin. His fangs a little too close to comfort but Haytham wouldn’t…

Before he knows it, fangs are sinking into his inner thigh. Without a warning. Without a notice. And Shay can’t hold the shout that escapes his mouth. The way his body convulses and how he instinctly grabs on Haytham’s hair. He groans as he feels his own hot blood dribbling down his thigh only for it to be licked up. He breathes heavily, trying to control himself and collect himself. But it is very hard. The thigh is much softer than the neck.

“Christ, Haytham,” Shay sneers.

Haytham would apologize but he knows damn well that he isn’t truly sorry. His lust and hunger got the best of him. He knows how to control himself yet every time he’s around Shay, he can’t help it. Especially when Shay is so willing to give himself up to Haytham. It’s a problem yet it’s a problem similar to a drug. A very addictive one at that.

The vampire sucks and licks at the bite mark until it stops bleeding, giving a small kiss before moving away. It still canes, the pain throbbing through Shay’s thigh but it’s manageable. He’ll just be walking with a limp from for the next few days.  

Haytham litters kiss up Shay’s stomach, to his chest then up his neck. A hand slithers down to his own cock and he lines himself up to Shay’s hole. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, he can’t. He dives into Shay a little too forcefully, pushing a deep, pushing a shaky grunt out of the Irishman. Shay holds onto Haytham’s shoulders, nails digging into skin. He pants loudly and shows his discomfort. But he doesn’t say stop.

Roughly, Haytham moves. His thrusts are short and uncoordinated. He’s desperate to get to the main course. Shay stops him before this gets too out of hand. He grabs Haytham’s face with both hands and makes the vampire look at him. He stops dead and his jaw is clenched so tightly that Shay can feel it.

“When was the last time you fed?” Shay asks, his voice all but a whisper.

The shaky inhale that Haytham does is all Shay would need for an answer. But he waits, because he wants to know how long Haytham has been holding out.

The vampire swallows, regaining some strength. “Three weeks before we voyaged out,” he softly responds, his voice cracking.

Shay’s lips thin. So that is why he’s so needy. So desperate to feed. He’s been holding himself together this entire voyage. Today was just his breaking point which is something not at all seen with Haytham.

A pit of guilt settles into the Captain’s gut that he didn’t notice anything. Yet, at the same time he knows he shouldn’t. Haytham has somewhat perfected hiding his vampirism. So, hiding his hunger until it gets bad would just be another thing he has worked on until flawless.

“You silly, silly man,” Shay finally responds.

This gets a short chuckle from Haytham. Which is a big win in Shay’s books.

“Alright now?” Shay asks before they continue on.

“I’m not some fragile antique vase,” Haytham grumbles back.

The man below him raises a brow. Haytham frowns deeply but it’s something along the way of amusement.

Haytham exits Shay so he can reach over the bed. He grabs one of the pillows and positions it under Shay’s back all so this is a better experience for the Irishman. Shay had taught him this little trick after learning it from the girls in Albany. He then reaches back over to Shay’s bedside table and picks out the small bottle of oil he keeps in there.

Truth be told, this isn’t for Haytham. He only needs Shay’s blood but to make this a better experience, the sex is needed. Haytham lathers up his dick with the oil and prods Shay’s ass with some so it isn’t as painful as before.

Haytham re-enters Shay slowly, with more care this time. The moan that comes form Shay’s throat is something that he didn’t know he had in him tonight. The oil does more wonders than just spit.

Haytham starts slowly, letting Shay feel good and let his body buzz with the pleasure. Letting him moan and pant with every thrust that becomes harder with each turn. Haytham comes down on his hands and knees, hot breath hovering over Shay’s neck. But he comes up and gives a small kiss to his lips. Telling Shay that he is here.

Shay holds onto the vampire’s sides as he moves to the nape of his neck again. The pleasure that holds onto him is only something he can get lost in before the next notion comes. He brings a hand down to his cock and strokes himself to the timing of Haytham’s movements. He relaxes his body, knowing that tensing only makes the first bite worse.

The vampire hesitates for a moment, his eyes grazing over the old and new scars that seem to litter Shay’s shoulders and nape. All perfect bite marks caused by Haytham in events such as now. He doesn’t want to think too much of it. Not when he’s starving.  

When the set of fangs sink into Shay’s skin, it isn’t something out of those romance novels he’s read. It hurts. Shay’s body tenses up as he fights his inner self to not push Haytham off of him. He has forgotten about his own dick and his holds onto the vampire for dear life as Haytham’s fangs sink deeper into his flesh. The pain is blinding. It’s almost too much with Haytham keeping an even pace inside of him.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he’s letting it out. And with his breath, comes out a pained cry. He can’t help it. Shay inhales in shakily, trying to control himself but, as Haytham drinks his fill. The burning pain only ebs down his chest and up his neck. He claws at Haytham, but the vampire doesn’t budge.

He can feel Haytham’s hot tongue lapping at the blood seeping from the bite mark. Pushing down so that more blood pools out. Shay grinds his teeth again, threatening them to crack. Haytham works carefully though. Not letting a drop slip down his body and onto his bed.

“Ah, Hay- Ngh…” Shay grinds out pass his teeth.

His head becomes dizzy, something familiar to what he’s felt before. The dizziness that comes with blood loss. He pants shallowly, his grip beginning to loosen and his dick beginning to soften.

Haytham pulls away, feeling Shay’s fight lesson. He licks at the wound that pearls blood. The taste sends a shiver down his blood. Metallic, coppery yet sweet. He licks and kisses until the bite mark doesn’t bleed profusely, but it still is something that will need attention. He did bite quite deep tonight. The scars will welt more than the others.

His thrusting pauses as he sits up to look down at Shay, who pats him on the thigh lightly. He looks pale, more so than he does usually.

“We can finish this later,” Shay groans out. “Clean me up, Haytham.”

Haytham pulls out and swats the pillow out from under Shay so that he can bring the man into a sitting position. He’s a little dazed but he can hold himself. He stays sitting while Haytham walks over across the room stark naked.

Any other time, Shay would soak in the view. But right now he feels so ungodly tired. He knows he can’t sleep just yet though. But the notion is so welcoming.  

When Haytham comes back, he wipes the blood that drips down his chest. He’s had his fill, even a drop more would be greedy. He dabs a rag with straight alcohol and places it on Shay’s wound. The Irishman hisses, seeming to wake up all at once.

“I-“

“Don’t apologize.”

Haytham frowns slightly. He continues dressing the wound the best he knows. All so that it doesn’t get infected. None of the others have ever gotten infected but Haytham doesn’t want to play his chances.

“Do you feel better?” Shay manages to mumble out.

“Yes.” The vampire pauses in thought. “I appreciate what you do for… this.”

“Mm.”

This, referring to his vampirism. This, referring to his curse. This, referring to his bloodlust. All that Shay is more than willing to help for. Something that Haytham -in his own eyes- doesn’t deserve but yet he receives.

“Lay down now, Shay,” Haytham murmurs. “Gist has the helm.”

Shay doesn’t lay down straight away though. He pries open one eye and looks to Haytham. He stares for a moment, at the red staring back at him that now seem to have dulled.

“Stay with me? Hm?” He asks, his accent making his words slurred together.

Haytham softly places a hand over Shay’s, his own cold compared to the living. He shouldn’t linger any longer than usual. Last thing he wants is to have the crew talking, or let along Gist.

But it’s Shay. The one that has given up so much for their cause. For the Order. For Haytham.

“Just for a moment.”

[gococogo]

Day Seven: Drunk Sex

Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October

Synopsis: The lot celebrate Shay's birthday. Both Shay and Haytham get a little too drunk for their own liking, making sex a struggle.

Word Count: 2.6K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Nsfw/Drunk sex/An*l/Spit as lube

“Twenty-five, sir.”

Maybe Shay thought Haytham already knew his age. Or maybe Gist or someone else in the order had told him. But, the Grandmaster chokes on his ale as he’s taking a sip and the liquid sprays up into his face.

Everyone at the table goes silent, all trying to hold in their laughter. It’s quiet a scene, seeing Haytham shocked still as ale drips form his chin as he bends over forward on his chair. All so he doesn’t ruin his coat and clothing. He retrieves a handkerchief from his breast pocket, flicking it out before wiping his face.

Shay clears his throat so that any hint of amusement is gone from his voice, “I do apologize.”

Haytham holds up his hand as he sets his drink on the table with the others. He does not normally drink with his fellow Templars, but tonight is special occasion. Shay’s birthday. Something that Gist forced out of him a while ago. And only because it is Shay is Haytham here in the Greenwich Tavern.

The Grandmaster gathers himself again, patting his handkerchief into his pocket again.   

“It is alright, Shay. I just, did not expect you to be so young,” he says with the slightest hint of a chuckle.

If it was anyone else, no one would have seen the smirk on the Grandmaster’s lips, but Shay does. He sits back in his chair, holding his own ale with two hands on his lap.

“I wouldn’t exactly call twenty-five young, sir,” Shay responds as he feels his cheeks heat up.

“Bollocks, Shay!” Gist cries out, slapping his Captain’s shoulder. “It is the prime of your life and you are still a wee babe in our eyes!”

Shay chuckles at that and tries to his face away. “I don’t feel young no more, that’s for sure.”

“Wise beyond your years,” Haytham responds.

That, has Shay looking his way with raised brows. In all his life he’s never been called wise and it feels, odd. Gist raises his cup and cheers towards Shay. All but Haytham clink their cup with his and celebrate even further. The entire rest of the night, the comment keeps twirling in Shay’s mind. All the way until he drunkenly stumbles down the halls of the tavern to his room.

He had booked a room out earlier that day because he knew for a fact, that he wouldn’t be able to make the trip home. He normally can hold his liquor, but keeping up with Gist is a whole other game. Who knew an American could keep up with an Irishman.

He stares at the doorhandle as he tries to open it, fumbling around with it. It isn’t until a warm hand overlaps his own and takes it off gently to open it with a key does he realise his mistake. Shay leans on the door heavily, his forehead whacking against it. He looks at Haytham with a big smile on his face.

Haytham may also be a little bit topsy turvy. He did notice that the Grandmaster tonight was in such a good mood. A mood that had Shay buying him a drink every time he noticed his cup was empty. Who is he to blame? How could he have such a handsome man buying his own drinks.

“Are you to help me inside, kind sir?” Shay slurs.

This only brings a warm smile to Haytham’s features that makes him look gorgeous. It’s a rare thing to see, but Shay relishes in each moment it happens.  

“To make sure a drunkard fool gets home safely so no one snatches them up?” Haytham asks.

Shay only raises an eyebrow, waiting for the other to answer his own question.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Then snatch me away, sir,” Shay smiles.

At that, Haytham opens the door.

And Shay falls into the room like a sack of potatoes.

He hits the ground heavily with a grunt and a groan. He knows for a fact that everyone in the tavern would have heard the massive thud. Someone across the road would have heard him.

Haytham has to compose himself before he looks around the door frame at Shay laying face down on the floor. Haytham will have to be honest with himself here, he is a little intoxicated himself and this is all a little bit too amusing for him right now. Shay was terrible with buying him so many drinks. But how could he not, he would have hurt the more man’s heart.

He quickly jumps inside and moves Shay’s legs with his boot so he can get the door closed and locked. Shay finally gets his arms under him but the world spins around him. Maybe that last pint wasn’t such a good idea. Haytham gets his arms underneath Shay’s pits and lifts him. But it’s all dead weight at this point and Haytham grunts as he tries his best. He truly isn’t thinking. Something only Shay could bring out in him.  

“Shay a little help?” Haytham wheezes.

The Captain gets his feet under him but he trips over himself, pushing Haytham back. Luckily, the bed is behind them and they both fall onto the bed in a heap. Haytham huffs out his lung capacity of air as Shay lands right on top of him. A drunk laugh escapes Shay as he rolls of the Grandmaster.

“Image having the others see us now,” Shay comments.

“I would rather not,” Haytham bites.

Shay’s crew and Gist are still partying downstairs without the main man. The noise can be heard from the second floor where the rooms are. The floors aren’t all that thick in the first place. He’s surprised someone didn’t come up and investigate the loud bang.  

Haytham had retired first, and then an hour later Shay had followed suit. Not wanting to make it noticeable but it isn’t like half the crew has their own rumours about the both of them now. Even Gist has asked a couple of times and each time, has narrowly escaped the nearest thing being thrown at him. But none of their comments are out of hate or disgust. Yet. Either way, Shay would hide their asses before any harm came to him or Haytham.

“Did you really think I was older, sir?” Shay picks up randomly as he shuffles up the bed more.

But he’s dragged down the bed quickly by the straps crisscrossing his chest. Haytham begins unbuckling them and suddenly, Shay likes where this is heading.

“I might of. I’m not sure really now,” Haytham comments, his dark blue eyes focused on the straps.

But his normally elegant fingers now fumble of the buckles and straps. He curses under his breath as he gives up, letting Shay take over.

“Why do you ask?”

Shay shrugs as he sits up, throwing the straps to the ground. He then takes off his belt and sash to even begin taking his coat off. Sometimes nights like this, Shay really wished he didn’t wear so many layers and armour.

“Just thinking about how old I look I guess,” Shay responds.

Haytham stares at him out of the corner of his eye. After a few seconds, he meets his gaze with an expression that says “Huh?” For the first time, his quick witted mind can’t catch on. Which is a little odd for Shay, if he was proper sober.

“Do I look old?” Shay asks instead.

Haytham expressions furrow and stares at the Irishman for a moment. Trying to collect his thoughts in his drunkard haze to try and answer correctly. This isn’t the time to be having this conversation, but truly it is the only time they’ll ever speak like this. Outside of rooms like this one, it is strictly formal.

“There are some times where you act your age, Shay. But most of the times, the things you have been through, you act as if you have many years of experience under your belt. Many more than others can say or ever do in their own life times,” Haytham answers back proper, seeming to sober up a bit.

Shay now realizes, he truly is too drunk for this talk. And with the slight sway as he sits, Haytham sees that as well. Haytham comes to Shay, wrapping a hand around his neck and bringing him in for a kiss. The simple touch feels like fire, the alcohol in his system doing wonders.

Haytham pulls away all to whisper, “We’ll speak of this another time, not now.”

“Not now,” Shay repeats, not being able to form any other words.

The hands that glide over his body feel so good. Shay captures the other’s lips in another kiss, needing more, needing to taste the alcohol on Haytham’s tongue, needing to touch the warm skin it almost burns. Shay helps Haytham strips of his clothes and vice a versa, layer by layer, piece by piece until every bit is on the floor of the tavern room. Leaving both men completely nude for each other to gaze upon with a drunkard smirk.

Shay can’t help but feel Haytham’s toned body up, his fingers flittering over old scars and new. The Grandmaster shivers under the touch, breathing shallowing with his mouth slightly parted. Shame is something of the past tonight. All that lies between them is pure adoration.

Haytham pushes Shay back down on the bed with an almost comedic oof. But he stays there, watching and waiting. Not for Haytham to do whatever he’s planning, but for his head to stop spinning. He groans lightly to himself, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. All while he lets Haytham do whatever he’s doing. But whatever this is, he’s very much into it. Because everything in his body tingles.

He just wishes he didn’t drink that last pint so he can enjoy this a little bit more.

But his cock still stands at attention, needy and ready. But he don’t dare touch himself because every single pass of a hand or finger is like a hot fire. A hot fire that makes him want to burst like a firework.

Haytham grabs his thighs and lifts them up so his ass is on full display. Now, Shay uncovers his eyes so that he can watch the first Grandmaster of the American Colonial Rite’s tongue disappear into his ass.

Shay gasps and tenses up, grabbing the bed sheets like some dollar whore. His senses feel like their heightened but sloppy at the same time. It’s an odd sensation but he wants more. And Haytham gives it to him. Eating him out slowly and making sure that there’s enough spit and saliva for the next course of action. Because neither of them bought any oil, and no tavern would supply such a thing in this day and age for an act as sinful as this. For Haytham’s tongue is a wicked devil at that.

Woman must fall at his knees for such a talent.

When Haytham is done, he has Shay trembling in his touch. The Irishman swallows thickly, chuckling at himself. He’s usually so much well preserved in bed. Same could be said for Haytham. But with drink in the equation, all manners seem to go out the window.

Haytham moves up Shay’s body a little lazily, all so he can capture his lips in a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clack together but neither of them care at the pain that ebbs in their faces. Shay runs his fingers through Haytham’s hair, making it a complete mess and ridding him of the cute ribbon he always has in his hair.

Shay moves his kisses to Haytam’s chin, then his neck and then his nape. All until he has the man panting over him.

Haytham reaches down to his own cock, grinding his teeth at the touch of his own hand. He brings himself to Shay’s ass, waiting a moment before pushing in slightly. Shay hisses loudly, grabbing onto Haytham as the head of his cock enters his ass.

“A lil warning next time,” Shay seethes.

“Apologises.”

Shay keeps a hand pushed against Haytham’s stomach, stopping him from moving any further. The burn and stretch isn’t good right now. Something that Shay wants to push away from. If they had oil or literally anything else but spit, this would be so much easier and less painful.

But idiot drunks will be drunk idiots.

When the pain eases is when Shay lets the other move. Haytham grinds softly into him, all too sluggish to do anything proper. But neither is Shay, so he can’t blame the man. He keeps his legs wrapped around Haytham’s waist and that’s the best he can do for the other.  

With each shallow thrust Haytham is able to ease more of himself into Shay. He grunts in Shay’s ear, the sensation feeling as good as the Irishman is feeling as well. The burning pleasure that comes with being intoxicated is something that Shay chased a lot when he was just a fresh adult. Going from tavern to tavern and drinking and whoring. But this feels so much better than all those times. It’s nothing like all those quick fucks and girls in Havana.

But by God does he feel good right now. He holds onto Haytham for dear life, because he feels like if he lets go, he’s going to float away. He holds Haytham close so they’re chest to chest all while the other moves his hips, grinding just so there’s enough friction between the both of them. Shay’s dick sits in between their stomachs and the smallest movement as his balls tightening. The noises Haytham is making in his neck is going to send him over the edge let alone everything going down there.

Haytham keeps an even pace for a while before he gets up on his hands and knees, pushing Shay’s hips up with him. He bows his head, hair falling over his face as he quickens his pace. He pants loudly now as he tries to reach his high. And this new angle and pace has Shay gasping and grunting at the tingling sensation. At the coil tightening in his gut that is close to bursting.

He wraps a hand around his dick, matching Haytham’s pace. He wants to come at the same time. Try to at least but they’re both so close. Shay can feel it and by the way Haytham is going at it, he’s close as well.

Shay comes first, his whole body tensing up as he lets himself go onto his stomach. It hits him like a punch to the jaw, making his head spin and spiral. He tightens around Haytham’s cock, stuttering the man’s movements. But Haytham uses the last of his energy to thrust hard a couple more times before driving his dick deep into Shay with a grunt and a moan. The warm sensation of Haytham coming inside of him makes Shay’s own orgasm something that makes the room spin even more. He has to quickly cover his face with a hand to make everything stop, all so that he doesn’t have to lean over the bed and vomit up everything he’s ingested in the past couple of hours. Which Shay thinks would be a complete mood breaker.

Haytham collapses onto Shay, almost winding the man. But the weight is fine, it grounds Shay quicker than what he was doing himself. And Haytham doesn’t seem to notice which is a plus. They both stay still, catching their breath and too tired to move.

Shay makes the comment in his head that they should clean up before passing out. He doesn’t know if he gets as far as voicing it because he’s not sure what his mouth is doing at the moment. Everything seems numb. It’s all lost though as he passes out, slipping into a drunk and sex filled sleep.

[gococogo]

Day Three: Bath Sex/Mutual Masturbation

Kinktober Masterlist coming after October

Synopsis: Shay is back in Boston for a short time while on a lead on the box. Haytham realizes how much he's missed the man, but all while knowing Shay will leave soon. Duty for the safety of man kind and all.

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Nsfw/Angst/Feelings/Hanky panky

For some reason, it’s a peaceful night in Boston.

The bath sits in front of the fire, a long cast iron tub that only someone like Haytham could afford. One in which only himself and Shay have the privilege of sitting in. Shay has only bathed in those small wooden ones where your knees are up touching your ears all while you scrub away. But to Shay now, being able to lay down and stretch his legs out in hot water is heavenly. He could fall asleep here. The water still nice and hot and keeping warm from the fire.  

All while Haytham sits at his desk on the other side of the room behind Shay writing out reports. Trying to find out the next best cause of action for these new precursor sights he has found. The soft scribble of pencil on paper is a soothing background noise.

The reason why Shay is back in America in Haytham’s bath and not half way across the world somewhere is all because of the box. His now cold lead had bought him into Boston, where he so happened to run into Haytham in the Green Dragon. Or maybe Shay made sure he was in the tavern when Haytham and the rest were around. The looks on their faces when he popped up. He wish he could have that painted.  

Haytham’s pencil suddenly snaps under the amount of pressure the man was putting it under. It’s soon followed by a curse and the pencil is heard hitting the other side of the room.

Shay slowly opens his eyes. “Haytham,” he slowly says.

Said man almost jumps out of his skin. He had forgotten Shay was in here with him. The thought that the hunter is with him again is still an odd thought. It’s been a good few years. Haytham leans back in his chair and runs his hands down his face with a soft groan.

“Come here,” Shay drawls.

He doesn’t bother looking over or moving in the tub to peer upon Haytham. But he doesn’t have to, to know that the man is frustrated and pouting. And Haytham is. He stays sitting and stares at the back of Shay’s head with a frown.

“Don’t mind me, Shay,” Haytham conflicts. “I’m alright.”

“Haytham,” his name is said more sternly this time. Almost like a parent warning their child.  

The Grandmaster loudly sighs so that Shay can hear his annoyance. But it doesn’t stop the man from waving a hand, beckoning him over. Haytham stares at him a moment longer before standing and walking over to where Shay is in the tub.

Shay smiles slyly as Haytham stands over him with his arms crossed over his chest. There is no soap suds sitting on the top of the water to cover his body from Haytham’s wondering eyes. Shay’s hair falls down his shoulders, the greying hairs at his temples seeming to catch the fire light. It reminds Haytham all too much of his own and how old they’re both getting.

Shay holds out a hand, “Join me, Haytham.”

Haytham wants to protest, but as he gives a look over to his desk he’s reminded how this moment could slip through his fingers if he chooses to say no. How quickly Shay could be pulled away from him again. And then how many more years will he go without seeing the other man?

He unclips his cloak and lets it land at his feet with a loud thud. Shay’s smile now reaches his eyes as he watches his Grandmaster strip in front of him. He rests his hand back into the water, waiting patiently for Haytham to finish. Layer by layer until he’s kicking off his under garments. Brown eyes trail down his body, not ashamed by looking at something marvellous in front of him.

Haytham steps in slowly and Shay moves so that he can lay down between his legs. The bath is a little too small but neither of them complain. Even when the water splashes and sloshes out a little as Shay sits up straight against the back of the tub, not a word is spoken or snapped.

Now settled and finally being able to just, look at Shay, Haytham’s words almost get caught in his throat, “I thought I would never see you again.”

The smile from Shay’s lips falls and his head tilts ever so slightly. “You didn’t think I’d find the box?” He asks a little offended.

Haytham shakes his head once. “No, no Shay of course not. I know you’ll find it,” he phases off.

But Shay waits for him to finish, letting the fire crackle and pop and the gentle breathing of the both of them to ease the silence. Haytham looks down, finding himself not able to speak as he looks at the other.

“I thought I would be long dead.”

Haytham leaves it at that. Long dead before Shay got back. That leaves a heavy lead like feeling in the hunter’s gut. Shay stares at him for a moment with a look in his eyes that Haytham can’t read.

He then sits forward and moves until he’s kneeling over Haytham, using the sides of the bath tub to keep him up. He’s mere inches away from Haytham’s face, looking at him through thick lashes.

“Yet, here you are,” Shay speaks so softly it’s almost lost to the night.

“And yet, here I am.”

With that, Shay brings their lips together with a passion long forgotten. His hands come to Haytham’s sides, holding him as all he can do is melt in the touch. It has been too long. Haytham’s hands are caressing Shay’s head, running his fingers through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He feels a little desperate. Like someone that hasn’t been touched in over a decade.

But hasn’t he? Hasn’t Haytham kept to himself all these years and focused solely on his own work. Searching and failing for these goddamn precursor sights. Each trail leading to a dead end that leaves him more frustrated to isolate himself in his office every hour of the day. Leaving himself to rot away by himself and become dead meat. 

But Shay, Shay treats him like a cherished, lost item now found. With a long lost love that has never gone away and has only been festering inside him. Touching and feeling Haytham for any new changes that have happened over the years or any old ones he has always gone over. He finds the old scars and moves quickly over them, but when a finger flitters over a new mark he inspects it with curiosity. All while he moves from Haytham’s mouth to his chin, then down his neck where he begins to lightly suck and graze his teeth over sun kissed skin.

Haytham inhales through his teeth sharply, gripping onto Shay’s shoulder as his body is caressed. A hand travels down Haytham’s body to wrap around his hardening cock. At the simple touch, Shay has the man under him grunting and clenching his jaw to hold in those noises he so much wants to hear.

“Sh-Shay,” Haytham breathes out.

A grin can be felt against his skin as Shay strokes Haytham slowly but surely. The warm water makes it easy as skin glides over skin. But it’s all a little too much when Shay brings his own dick into his fist with Haytham’s. Shay moves his hips to jerk Haytham and himself off as he pants softly and lovely in his ear. The water sloshes at the movement but the clean up is the last thing on Haytham’s mind.

He stares at the ceiling as he can feel the pleasure rippling through his body. His gut tightening and once in his younger years, he knows he would have been able to last longer. But his stamina is not what it once was. And he has realized he is very much starved for touch.

Haytham bucks his hips up into Shay’s hand, trying to get more friction that the water isn’t providing. He grips onto Shay, not wanting to ever let go. His body feels like it’s on fire and about to explode but there’s something stopping him. It just isn’t enough to push him over the top despite him being right on the edge. And it becomes frustrating as he bucks his hips up again.

Suddenly, Shay bites down hard into the nape of Haytham’s neck as the younger man comes. It’s almost like a shock of electricity strikes him as he finally tips over the edge. His orgasm rips through him as he comes into the water along side Shay. He doesn’t realize his vision had become spotted until he has to blink a couple of times to come back.

Haytham’s body goes placid as Shay hauls himself back up with hands on either side of the tub. A sly smile covers his face as he collects himself, his dark eyes flickering over Haytham’s face. The older man brings a hand up and cups Shay’s face. He runs a thumb over the crows feet now revealing themselves on the hunter’s face. Almost making the man look wiser for his years.  

The words leave Haytham’s mouth before he knows it, “I regret sending you away.”

Shay’s smile faulters a second time that night and he stares blankly at him now. Haytham swallows thickly as he brings his hand away from Shay’s face. He has always been known as a mood breaker.  

“I’m sorry,” the older whispers.

“You can’t go saying things like that, sir,” Shay almost hisses, but holds himself off. “I have a duty to the order.”

Haytham quickly corrects himself, licking his lips before speaking firmly but softly. “I didn’t mean it in such a crude way, Shay. I regret sending my best man away only because you are the only one I can truly trust in the Order. That is why I sent you away because I know you will come back with the box.”

Haytham cups Shay’s face with both of his hands this time. But brown eyes refuse to meet his own gaze.

“But that does not mean I miss you every day, and regret my decision even if it was for the good of man,” he finishes, needing these words to be said so that Shay knows.

Haytham blinks as a tear strikes his eye from above. The water might be spoiled and becoming cold, the fire dwindling to soft coals so the light in the office room is dependent on a singular lantern from the desk, but that all doesn’t stop Haytham from holding Shay close to him as the younger man’s body shudders under his touch. A strong ache squeezes at Haytham’s heart and throat at the realization that Shay will be off once again.

And oh, will he be missed dearly.

[gococogo]

Day One: Voyeurism

2023 Kinktober Masterlist after October

Synopsis: Shay is back in Boston after finding that bloody box. But Haytham has to attend a high party on the first night the Irishman is back. And out of curiosity, Shay wants to go.

One thing he forgets though is that, Shay can be quite jealous at time.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Notes: Artwork is not mine! It is done by the amazing @pandaaaaaaaaxd and this great artwork inspired me to create this master piece of a fic! So, please enjoy the first day of Kinktober.

Warnings: Voyeurism/Nsfw/Smut/Blowjob/Anal/Jealously/Possessiveness/Biting/Hand job/Man handling/Top!Shay/Bottom!Haytham

Seeing Shay again after so long was almost like seeing a completely different person in his place. Yes, don’t get Haytham wrong, Shay still has his wits and commentary, but his charm has become something more dangerous that his aged features now hold. The grey that now streaks his dark hair is a subtle reminder that none of them will stay young forever. The image that Haytham has had in his head of Shay for nearly two decades now is of this young man who had to grow up too fast. 

But now, the man that joins Haytham to a high party holds himself squared and tall. He wears a blue and brown formal attire, something different to what he arrived in Boston in but similar. Fancier if Haytham has to put it.

But he had forgotten just how the man allured him in the first place. Sitting across from him in the horse carriage is something of a familiarity but also a strange coming. Conversation has been hard to strike up. Only because Haytham isn’t sure where they stand right now. 

Yes, Haytham could just simply ask. But he won’t. It’s not in his nature to do so. 

“So, you escaped France unharmed?” Haytham asks, continuing on with what Shay has just told him. 

The other nods his head softly. “Nobody knew I was there. Since I didn’t come in contact with the French Templars while I was visiting, they wouldn’t be able to give anything up to the Assassins there to track me here.”

Haytham turns his head downwards to try and hide his smile and says, “You’ve done well, Shay.”

Shay sees the smile all the same though. Even years apart, Haytham still has the same mannerisms as when they first met.

“Thank you, sir,” he replies back. 

-

The horse carriage finally comes to a stop outside the manor on the other side of Boston. The both of them could have well walked from where Haytham lives, but the Grandmaster didn’t want to arrive so, mundanely. 

Shay opens the door for Haytham, holding a hand for him once outside. Haytham takes it gingerly as he steps out of the carriage, looking up at the manor ahead. He has only been here once before but that was so long ago. But that was after Shay had left, so the other has not set foot here nor met the host of this party. 

“Why is the party being held?” Shay asks as he clasps his hands behind his back. 

He looks up at the manor, but it isn’t with awe. Somewhere along his journey, he has seen bigger and better. Maybe Haytham will ask where that is later on. 

“I do not know exactly. But Mr Shaw wanted me here,” Haytham replies. 

As if coming out of a daze, Shay returns his attention back to Haytham with a smile. He bows slightly with an outstretched hand. 

“After you then,” he inquires. 

Haytham softly rolls his eyes as he walks forward. The both of them travel side by side up to the front door where the sound of chatter inside becomes louder and louder. Two men stand outside, security by Haytham’s guess. They know Haytham by first glance but they look Shay over with uncertainty. 

The younger one places a hand on Shay’s chest, stopping him. The taller man looks down at the hand that is quickly retracted before flicking his eyes up to the younger. Something almost predator. 

“He’s with me,” Haytham simply says. 

The older steps forward, pushing the younger away with a frown. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kenway. Please head inside and enjoy tonight,” he apologizes. 

The door is opened for them by the idiotic younger man and Haytham steps inside without a thank you or another word. Shay doesn’t even offer a word of acknowledgement either. Yet, as soon as the door closes behind the hunter he can’t help but chuckle to himself. 

“Looked like he was ‘bout to soil himself?” Shay smiles toothily. 

The butler comes up to them and holds out his hands for their coats. Shay shimmies his off, leaving him in just a pale blue vest and a frilled white dress shirt that Haytham has to not stare at. 

“It was amusing,” Haytham agrees as he declines with his own coat. 

He doesn’t want to spend too long here. In all honesty, he wanted to spend tonight at home talking to Shay about his time away and catch up in other manners. He had forgotten about the event until Mr. Shaw’s personal butler had come around and asked if he was still coming. Shay had insisted, wanting to see what Haytham had been up to in these years. 

So, one could say they’re here because the curiosity got to Shay. And he doesn’t seem to hide it these days. Everything that grabs his interest or is new, he wants to know more. Maybe that’s just him realizing in his young age that he’s getting too old to let things pass these days. Or maybe he’s been hunting for that damn box for too long. 

That thought brings a pit of something into Haytham’s gut as the butler directs them to where everyone is. The gathering is out the back of the mansion where the garden is. It’s busy and there are more people here than he expected. He stops mid walk on the back porch, before the stairs that lead down to the garden and grazes the area. He can’t spot the host and that alone bugs him. 

There’s a big patio in the middle of the garden where a band plays some soft music that try and lighten the mood. The garden goes further out down a path way to the right and Haytham does not want to start a search to look for the host. The last thing he wants to be doing tonight. 

“Sir?” Shay asks suddenly. 

Haytham realizes he’s been spacing out and looks down to Shay at the bottom of the stairs. He holds out a hand to him with a slightly cocked brow. Haytham, is very charmed by this. But Shay is forgetting himself here. He’s being a little too comfortable. 

He walks right past Shay, ignoring the hand. 

Haytham does notice it takes a while for Shay to come by his side again. The frown on his features doesn’t go unnoticed from the corner of Haytham’s eye. 

“I forgot to ask who’s the host,” Shay picks up conversation. 

“Mr Leviticus Shaw. He’s not one of us but he does help our course and knows who we are,” Haytham explains. 

“Interesting fellow?” 

“Not the slightest. A proper British man. Cocky and egotistical” Haytham scowls as he stops in the middle of a path way. 

They haven’t even left the main part of the garden and he’s still not seeing anyone he knows. There’s butler’s moving out with trays of food and drinks and none of them have come over to see him. He needs a drink or something, or anything to get through tonight. 

“Sir, it sounds like you’re calling the kettle black there?” Shay asks but with a little too much grunt in it for Haytham’s liking. 

He looks to the Irishman out of the corner of his eye with furrowed brows. Shay looks away as if he didn’t make the comment. A butler comes around with champagne and Shay takes two glasses off smoothly. He offers one to Haytham with a sly smile, trying to win him back a little too quickly.  

Haytham takes it though, sniffing it before downing it in one go. He returns the glass to Shay all while the other gently sips out of his own. 

Finally, Leviticus Shaw comes into view and Haytham rushes forward. Maybe he can say his hellos and be on his way. He’s with two other men he doesn’t know but Haytham doesn’t care. Shaw is in sight. 

Shaw sees him first and his expression widens. “Mr Kenway! It is good to know you have come!” He exclaims as he shakes the others hand. 

Leviticus Shaw is a tall stocky man with an ego to match. He isn’t much to look that but it’s his wealth and contacts that has him in best interest with the Templars. And Shaw knows that and likes to twirl Haytham around his fingers. Which Haytham does not like. 

“I thought I’d come to say hello and be on my way,” Haytham starts and goes to continue his sentence but Shaw cuts him off. 

“Oh! Do you have somewhere else to be?” Shaw asks with a frown. “Tonight is meant to be something for my son. Have you met, William?”

Haytham shakes his head as he says, “No, I haven’t had the pleasure too.”

“Oh you best meet him!” 

Shaw excuses himself from the other two men he’s with and begins walking with Haytham with a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s celebrating buying the horse track down in Boston. We should go there sometime,” Shaw says with a smile on his face. 

But it’s not something that meets his eyes. The pride he shows for his son isn’t real. All to do with the family name that follows him that he has to be proud of. 

“I might not be able to go. I have other matters on my hand, Shaw,” Haytham objects kindly. 

Shaw stops dead, the hand on his shoulder travelling down to Haytham’s waist. The touch doesn’t go unnoticed and Haytham takes a small step back out of Shaw’s touch. 

“That Templar business getting in the way?” Shaw asks in a hushed tone. 

“No,” Haytham simply says. “As I said, I’m only staying here for a simple hello, Shaw.”

Haytham takes a quick look behind him at Shay, who in return is staring right back at him. Two dark eyes over the top of his champagne glass that feel like ice on his shoulders. He turns his attention back to Shaw who is looking over Haytham’s shoulder. 

“I need to be off,” he inquires. 

“My son will be disappointed if you don’t meet him,” Shaw argues back with a smile. 

Unfortunately, Haytham can’t decline in worries of breaking their current alliance with the man. He follows Shaw to meet his son, William and it’s quick and simple.

 But shortly, other woman and men come up to Haytham that he has never met before but they seem to know a lot about him. They touch and laugh with Haytham and touch. May it be hand on the shoulder or arm, or a hand on his back that will move down to just above his hip before it starts to be too noticeable. 

Flirting isn’t something that Haytham is good at. Never has been and doesn’t seem to want to learn any time soon. He wishes he listened closely to his teachers when he was young at being a gentlemen. Allowing one to be charming and endearing at the same time. Haytham would say he is charming, but others would say he’s just stoic and looking for his next meal. 

But for some reason Shaw’s mother-in-law has taken an interest in Haytham tonight. She hugs his arm closely and she has a grip that says she isn’t letting go any time soon. He has forgotten her name even though she introduced herself twice just before. 

“I have a young daughter I would like you to meet, Mr Kenway,” she begins again as Haytham tries to escape. 

For the first time tonight, true fear settles in. 

Just as Haytham thinks he’s going to die here and now, Shay appears before him. The mother-in-law looks him up and down and loosens her grip on the Grandmaster. Obviously, she has seen something more worth while than himself. At this given moment, Shay’s charm is a blessing. 

“Hellooo, and who may you be?” She asks with a wrinkled smile. 

Shay returns with a charismatic grin. “Mr. Cormac, ma’am.”

The mother-in-law lets go of Haytham finally and holds out her hand, in which Shay takes and kisses the back of. 

“What a sweetheart, you know this one Mr. Kenway?” She asks, not taking her eyes off of her new piece of meat. 

“Yes, I do,” Haytham answers as he keeps his distance from her. 

He doesn’t want to be in her grasp for a second longer. 

“And you didn’t introduce me to him? What a crime, Mr Kenway!” She exclaims. 

Shay cuts in though, saving the night, “I do apologize for our short meeting, ma’am, but I have to take Mr. Kenway here off your hands,” he queries. “I need to speak to him in private.”

There must be something about the way Shay talks, or the way he looks at her that has her immediately handing over Haytham.  

“Oh, I’ll let you two men talk then. I’ll come back for you, Mr. Cormac,” she says before wandering off for her next victim. 

“Good night,” Haytham says his goodbyes before turning his attention to Shay. 

And the charm that Shay had, well, Haytham quickly realizes what is it with the slight sway as he stands. Shay steps forward and hooks his arm in Haytham’s. He smells of wine, but he isn’t drunk. Maybe tipsy, but Haytham knows that he isn’t easy to get drunk.

Shay suddenly leans in Haytham’s ear and mumbles, “The drinks are cheap here and I want my coat.”

“Why I beg ask?” 

“It’s getting chilly.” He mopes. 

That is something of a lie because the man is radiating heat like a fire beside Haytham. Shay leads them back across the garden to the manor with a tight grip on his arm, almost worse than that mother-in-law. 

Once inside the manor, Shay doesn’t head to the front door. There are no visitors inside, only a couple of butlers. Shay stops in his tracks and looks around, thoughts running a mile behind those eyes. 

“What are you up to, Shay?” Haytham finally asks. 

He doesn’t pull from the man’s grip but waits for an answer. Shay looks down his nose at him in return. 

“I’ve been watching you the entire night, Haytham,” he answers lowly. 

“Oh?” 

Shay suddenly moves, walking Haytham down a hallway with no butlers. Then, with no warning Haytham is being pushed up against the wall closest to him with no escape. He goes along with it though, his eyes never leaving Shay once as he towers over him. 

“You leave me alone all night so I have to watch from a far as people put their hands all over you,” Shay mumbles deeply in Haytham’s ear. 

“You’re the one that insisted we come,” he points out. 

One of Shay’s hands swivels around the small of Haytham’s waist while the other comes up and cups his face. This sort of touch is so much more welcome to all the other people tonight. The people that may well get their hands on him tonight did it because they could, not because they wanted to. This, this is a want on the verge of desperation. 

“I have realized that I don’t fancy these types of parties,” Shay answers a little sadly that has Haytham grinning. 

Oh, what a jealous man Shay can be.  

With a hand loosening salt and pepper hair, Haytham brings Shay down for a kiss. The kiss is meant to be soft and passionate but it quickly becomes desperate from both sides. Slender fingers slowly undo Haytham’s coat buttons one by one. All so that Shay can hold his waist steady against the wall. 

Almost as the thought comes through Haytham’s mind, footsteps come into ear shot. Haytham’s blood runs cold, his heart jumping into his throat, and he pushes Shay off all together. Even if the butler’s don’t see them doing ungodly things, people aren’t dumb when they see dishevelled hair and half undone clothes. 

Haytham tries to make himself presentable again, not wanting any sort of rumour to get out about him. Because one thing he knows is that butlers and maids talk. 

But Shay has other plans. He grabs Haytham’s little red ribbon that stays around his neck and pulls him forward into the nearest room. Literally the closest door across the hallway that luckily wasn’t locked. 

A hand on Haytham’s chest keeps him against the wall next to the door all while Shay peeps out of it. Watching as the two employee’s of Shaw walk past, their voices fading away. 

“You’re lucky,” Haytham hushes. 

The shit eating grin that Shay sends his way is enough to make Haytham want to hit him. Shay leaves the door open a crack before returning to Haytham. They haven’t even gone any further into this office room, still standing right next to the door. A small dresser digs into the left side of Haytham’s hip. 

“Close the door, Shay,” Haytham snaps firmly. 

The other shakes his head as he comes face to face with his Grandmaster again. “Someone needs to keep an eye out,” is all he says before capturing Haytham in another kiss. 

When Shay had arrived back, there had only been time to talk and report and speak about their lives away. There had been no time for this. Haytham was hoping to allure Shay when they were home again. As much as this has Haytham’s heart beating loudly in his chest and throat and a thrill rushing over his skin, the anticipation of waiting for someone to open that door fully for someone to walk in on them is deafening. Which, only has him wanting to continue on. See how far they can get before someone notices something is up.  

The hand on his chest travels down to Haytham’s crotch, cupping and kneading. Haytham’s hands come to the small of Shay’s waist, a small gasp leaving his mouth as he pulls away slightly from their kiss. Shay’s mouth comes to his neck and a buzz runs down Haytham’s spine that goes straight to his dick. 

Shay’s hand leaves his crotch, for the moment all so that he can relieve Haytham of his coat. It drops heavily at his feet and for a second Haytham thinks someone would have heard. But Shay continues mouthing at his neck and palming his dick through his pants that the worry is quickly forgotten. 

The sound that escapes Haytham as teeth sink down into the soft part of his neck is choked off at the sudden realization that someone can hear him. Haytham waits for someone to come barging in, shouting and gasping at the sight of the Grandmaster Templar of the Colonial Rite. He tries to control his breathing but it is very hard when Shay is all over his body and knows what makes Haytham groan. Even after being years part, Shay hasn’t forgotten. 

But when no one comes, Haytham can’t help but release a short chortle. In return, Shay chuckles deeply against his skin. 

“Worried, Haytham?” Shay asks as he meets his gaze. 

Haytham scoffs. “You play a dangerous game,” he answers lowly. 

Shay grins again as he moves down his body, trailing kisses over his chest and stomach. All until Shay is on his knees in front of Haytham with his hands wrapped around his hips. A breathy exhale comes from Haytham’s parted mouth at such a sight. 

It makes him wonder how he got probably one of the most dangerous Templars in America to be so loyal to him. To devote himself to Haytham. To be allured by Haytham that he is deprived when he is not around. How did Shay last so many years away when right now it seems he can’t go a second without touching him. 

Shay begins to undo his belt and pants with nimble fingers. At this point Haytham can’t get his breathing under control or quiet enough to his liking. A choked groan escapes his throat as his cock is exposed to Shay’s hot breath, his pants pulled down just enough so free himself. His touch has Haytham’s legs shaking and by God has he missed the other. He holds onto the wall for support as he watches the head of his dick disappear around Shay’s already rosy lips. 

He tries to buck his hips forward but Haytham quickly realizes that Shay’s mission is to keep him pinned to the wall. His thumbs dig into his hips, holding him in place as he works his mouth around Haytham. Sucking and swallowing down more and more into his hot mouth until his nose is buried into greying pubes. Then he pops off the end of Haytham’s dick all to come back and mouth the head while making eye contact with him before repeating the process. The look alone has Haytham’s knees shaking, and if Shay wasn’t holding onto his so tightly, then he knows for a fact he would be on falling to the ground. His body his buzzing and Haytham can’t help the small pants that escape his mouth. 

A hand comes to Shay’s hair, gripping tightly but Haytham doesn’t dare push him down onto his cock. Even though the tightness in his gut is getting unforgiveable and his knees feel like buckling under him, he controls himself. 

But as much as Haytham wants to continue he pulls Shay off of him quickly by his hair at the sound of more footsteps. Shay looks up at him past hooded eyes, his mouth agape with saliva dribbling down his chin. He’s such a pretty sight but all Haytham can think about is the person outside. Haytham watches the light coming through the gap in the door flicker as someone passes by. They’re in a hurry and they pass by quickly without a concern for any noises going on his the mansion. 

Shay stands to his feet while wiping his mouth and pulls Haytham forward by his collar for a kiss. The muskiness that Haytham can taste is himself but it’s almost intoxicating. Haytham gets lost in the kiss, forgetting where he is until Shay pulls away. 

“I have missed you dearly, Haytham,” Shay breathes out. 

Haytham licks his lips and swallows. He honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. But Shay doesn’t want an answer, he doesn’t need one to know what Haytham is thinking. That Haytham has yearned for him over these passing years. And he couldn’t answer if he wanted to because Shay presses his fingers to Haytham’s mouth before pushing two digits in. 

“Make them nice and wet for me,” Shay whispers lowly. 

As much as Haytham wants to bite down on the fingers in his mouth purely out of spite, he’s too caught up in the moment. He licks and sucks at the fingers in his mouth, making sure to lather them up as much as he can with his own spit. Shay pushes in a little further, watching Haytham with dark eyes as if waiting for a reaction. And he gets one, going a little too far and triggering his gag reflex. Haytham chokes lightly and grabs Shay’s wrist with a deadly grip. 

Shay pulls his fingers out with a trail of saliva connecting them to Haytham’s lips. “Apologies,” he smirks. 

But he should be apologizing again as he flips Haytham around so that his face is against the wall. Shay shuffles his pants down a little further so that is ass is on display. 

“Can’t we further this when we get home?” Haytham asks as he moves so his forehead is resting against the wall. 

He doesn’t move though, or push Shay away as the man leans into his ear as he whispers, “I can’t wait the long ride back. Not with what you’ve done to me tonight.” His slicked fingers press against Haytham’s hole, hesitating. “I also have plans when we get home, but these aren’t it. You just had to go and be the charming man you are with everyone around you. Making me jealous and bothered.”

Haytham’s reply gets caught in his throat as a finger is pushed into him. He gasps out but a hand is quickly slapped over his mouth with his face angled upwards. He tries to look at Shay but all he can see is the fucking gap in the door and a sliver of the hallway. He breathes heavily through his nose as Shay works him open, entering another finger with the first. 

“Have you let anyone here touch you like I have?” Shay asks another question in his ear, his voice like gravel. 

Haytham gives a small shake of his head as all he can do is grip the wall in front of him. His dick rubs against the wall and is the only sense of friction he’s going to give himself. Otherwise he’s going to be done before Shay gets started. And he doesn’t want to ruin that for the man. But the dark chuckle that comes from Shay might be enough. 

When Shay is content with his work, Haytham feels a little empty, a little exposed when his fingers leave him. But it’s soon replaced with the head of Shay’s cock. He pushes in slowly and it’s painful at first, leaving Haytham to groan and huff behind Shay’s hand. But Shay waits a moment, waiting for Haytham to relax before moving again. He may be desperate, but he isn’t a monster. 

Shay holds onto Haytham as he fucks him with an even pace, slowly pushing in further inch by inch. He pants in Haytham’s ear, grunting every so often and the noises go straight to his cock. 

As much as he wants to hold on, it’s Shay’s hand slithering around his waist to his cock that unravels him. He comes hard and if Shay wasn’t holding him up, he’d have fallen to the ground. His vision goes spotty and he holds onto the wall for support. 

Shay rides himself through Haytham’s orgasm, becoming more and more noisy as he chases his own high. He uncovers Haytham’s mouth and both hands come and hold his waist, bring Haytham back to meet his cock as he thrusts forward. 

It starts to become a bit much for Haytham as he comes down from his high. He grinds his teeth as everything begins to become a little too sensitive. Luckily though, Shay comes forward and grabs his chest from behind as he buries in dick into Haytham and comes in his ass. His whole body shakes as he holds Haytham in place, his hips rutting as he goes through his own orgasm. Looks like Shay was trying to hold out as long as he could as well but failed. 

The two stay still for just a moment as Haytham lets Shay collect himself. The party can still be heard going on outside and Haytham quickly realizes where they are again. As Shay slips out of him, Haytham turns his head to looks out the door slowly. 

The air in his lungs get caught as he meets a pair of prying eyes. As soon as Haytham spots them, they’re already darting off. Maybe, Haytham should have protested a little more about having the door open.           

[gococogo]

Day Thirty One: Werewolf

Kinktober Masterlist will be posted after October

Synopsis: A blood full moon is it's way and Haytham has had a past experience with a werewolf turning feral on a night like this. He just hopes that Shay isn't the same.

Word Count: 4.7K

Genre: Assassin's Creed Rogue

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Werewolf stuff/Tongue stuff/Size Kink/Ass fucking/Man handling or shit like that/that word for monster fucking/rough sex

Haytham doesn’t knock or make himself known as he enters Shay’s manor. The owner of the estate doesn’t even peer up from his papers he’s currently nose deep in. Striding across open foyer, Haytham throws the newspaper in front of Shay on his table. The man doesn’t even look up to Haytham, only frowning at the paper that has ever so rudely interrupted his reading.

It’s folded open on one of the last pages where the times of the tides are, and the moon cycles are for the month. With a little hesitance, Shay picks up the newspaper and gives a quick skim. His brows furrow and he looks closer at what he is seeing in front of him.  

“A blood, full moon?” Shay asks more to himself.

Haytham pulls out a chair for himself on the other side of Shay’s office and takes a seat on the other side of the table. He takes his hat off and places it on top of Shay’s paperwork that seems to be a mess, but it’s organized on the filer’s account. Shay looks up from the newspaper and chucks it on top of the other papers.

“Never heard of such a thing,” Shay points out.

Haytham hums. “Yes, well. I’ve witnessed a blood moon and it doesn’t take fairly to wolves.”

The Irishman only looks to him for a moment, as if waiting for an answer. But when none comes, he asks, “I’m guessing you’ve come across a wolf during a blood moon?”

“Yes.”

“And how did it fair?”

“Dead.”

Shay nods with his lips thinned. “Lovely.”

Why isn’t he surprised by Haytham’s bluntness at this point. There’s some days where he thinks he’s gotten use to it and then there’s others where it takes him solely by surprise.

Haytham picks up the newspaper and gives it another once over even though he’s read it a good couple of times. He’s dealt with werewolves before, Shay isn’t the first cursed man that he’s come across in his lifetime. But only once has he had the luck of being around one during a blood moon.

For his liking, once was enough. Yet with his relationship to Shay, it seems like he’ll have to go through this situation again.

“What happened during the blood moon?” Shay asks.

Even though Shay is a were, one of the cursed, he is only newly turned. Turned by his once called brother, Liam O’Brien. Changed him on the night that Shay was escaping from the Assassins. A reason why he survived the fall and the cold ocean that greeted him below. Haytham would call it a miracle, while Shay would say something else entirely that children should not hear.

Monroe had informed Haytham of who Shay was from the very beginning. Haytham himself, had seen it as a big risk. A risk not worth taking and that he should just kill Shay before the next full moon came around. But that didn’t happen. Monroe had always been known to have a big heart. Even for a Templar.

“The one I encountered had gone feral. Almost like he was in a rut like state,” Haytham explains bluntly.

Shay is a bit wordless and tilts his head slightly as if a dog would. “A rut?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it,” Haytham admits truthfully with a small wave of his hand.

But at this, Shay sits further down in his seat with a huff. His eyes flicker across the reports and the papers on his desk. He suddenly becomes uninterested in finishing any of this today. Haytham thought he dove too much into his work. But with tracking other ships, plus his own and keeping up to date with gang activity, it all does start to pile up after a while. Haytham is just grateful he has the need to keep his work space tidy. On a good day at least.

“I’m meant to be in Albany on that date,” Shay brings up with a soft chuckle.

Haytham thinks on that. The were that he encounters on the blood moon didn’t know him. It was all by sheer coincidence that the two ran into each other that night.

But Shay and Haytham know each other on a level that not many get to see in their lives. In such a short time, they’ve formed a bond that ties them together through their experiences in life. And in doing so, Haytham has helped Shay with his transformations. Controlling the curse when he changes, he is more placid and more so has to wait out the night until he turns back. He has told Haytham that he still feels the hunger, the urge to rip and shred like the curse ensures upon. But Shay’s will is something stronger than most men.

They haven’t had a bad night since last year. But that could all change with this upcoming blood moon. But it’s Shay. There could be something that Haytham might be able to do on that night that can keep him at bay.

“And you won’t be able to delay your trip?” Haytham asks even though he knows what answer he’s going to get.

“Not if you want to lose a lead with the Assassins.”

As Haytham thought. Always onto something. Can’t stick to one place and can’t let the Assassins rest. Especially not after what they’ve done to Shay. The nickname, Templar Dog has seemed to stuck as what the Assassins call him now. Another one Haytham has heard but hasn’t told Shay yet, is the Grandmaster’s Lapdog. He doesn’t think Shay needs to know of it either.

“I’ll join you to Albany then,” Haytham says as he stands from his seat.

Shay opens his mouth to argue but a hand is held up in front of him. His words get caught in his throat and he shuts his mouth just as quickly. Haytham grabs his hat and straightens himself out.

“I’ve already made it final. Make board for one more on your ship.”

-

The trip to Albany goes smoothly, giving Shay and Haytham a week before the blood moon. But the itch that scratches underneath Shay’s skin becomes more eager with each passing day. He hasn’t felt anything like this since the early days.

To distract himself, he keeps himself occupied with the lead. There are meant to be a few Assassin’s or gang members still lurking around the town even though Shay has ratted them all out. But they like to linger about place they aren’t welcome.

To Shay’s dismay though, the week goes by quicker than he expected. Even Haytham lost track of days with helping Shay try and get this done as quick as possible. But the day of the blood moon comes around the corner and neither of them are ready to leave Albany.

-

Somehow, Shay had convinced Gist to get everyone off the Morrigan for the night. Gist knows of Shay’s curse but has never seen it firsthand. And he has told Shay firmly he will never have the desire to do so. Shay doesn’t blame him though, it isn’t a pretty sight. Haytham, not a man to sugar coat things, has said it’s something out of a nightmare.

The both of them keep to Shay’s quarters as soon as the sun begins to set, hoping this room is enough for the oncoming night. Haytham locks the doors behind him even though he knows it won’t do much to stop Shay from breaking out if he wanted to. He has seen this man charge through thick wooden doors and break bones in fully grow man’s hands. And all that was done without his were form.

Without saying a word, Shay begins stripping down to just his pants. It’s like a routine at this point, all so his clothes don’t get destroyed in the transformation. On his first transformation he had destroyed a pair of clothes that weren’t easy to replace. Nor was it fun waking up in the middle of nowhere butt ass naked on the outskirts of New York.

It was truly a morning to remember. He had ran into Monroe along the way back. The Templar had been looking for him and all he found was a naked, dirty man hiding behind a bush. That was the morning that Monroe’s suspicion came true and when his care for Shay became something along the lines of parental. Or maybe colonel and soldier. Shay will never know.

Haytham takes off his cloak and over coat, along with his hat to make himself comfortable. The night is a bit humid, even for the River Valley. Shay watches him with tense shoulders. A sinking like feeling grips at his throat. An image washes over him, of one of him hurting Haytham tonight. He turns away, eyes straining to the floor.  

Yes, this line of work and this line of life isn’t for the faint hearted. Shay knows, has been made very well known, that Haytham knows the supernatural side of life. Has come into contact with more than one werewolf and on the rare occasion, vampires. But feral werewolves can’t help their transformation, going rabid across the area wherever they hole up. While vampires like to keep hidden in plain sight.

Sounds a lot like the Assassins, but as far as Shay is aware, there were no vampires in the fold. Not while he was there at least. But no sane man goes around telling everyone that they’re a vampire.

Shay exhales slowly as he sits on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. He can feel it. He doesn’t know how to explain it. He’s tried to do so with Haytham. But how do you explain something that only a were can feel. He can feel the coming of the transformation. The calling of the moon that it seems to have. Shay will have to admit, it is the oddest side of being a were.

But there is one thing that does make sense now. The moon has never looked so beautiful. Unfortunately though, he won’t be able to look upon her tonight.

Haytham pulls out the only chair that Shay keeps in his quarters and places it in front of him. The noise is like a hammer hitting metal inside Shay’s head and he flinches away. His senses begin to become heightened; they always do on full moons.

Shay looks up from his hands with a raised brow. The other man sits with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his propped knee. Posh bastard.

“What are you doing?” Shay asks.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” the other quirks as if it’s obvious.

Shay only stares at Haytham for a moment. Wondering how on Earth he has come to this situation. Where he grew up, he was taught with the Assassins that the Grandmaster of the Templar Order is a ruthless, heartless son of a bitch.

And yes, they were right about the ruthless part… and somewhat on the heartless. But there are times like this that Shay is able to see the little bit of softness that Haytham is willing to lend out to the right person. The parts of him that Haytham has kept to himself for so many years.

“Promise me something, Haytham,” Shay begins.

“Hmm?”

“If I do go feral, put me down,” he says bluntly.

Instantly, he can see a cord is struck in Haytham. He’s good at hiding it but Shay has picked up his tell. His eyes slightly squint and he ever so slightly raised his chin upwards. As if he’s just tasted something sour on his tongue or smelt something off.

Haytham looks down to the bracers he still has on his arm. He flicks his hidden blade out, the both of them looking over the silver metal. One blade that has probably taken more lives than Shay has. Haytham isn’t shy of using it, nor waving it around. The sight of it almost says a million words itself. The way Haytham looks over it with his own thoughts racing through his head. Most likely, having to image sticking the blade into Shay’s neck.

He flicks it back in with a satisfying click.  

“Only if it comes down to it,” he answers poorly without looking up at Shay.

At this, Shay only frowns. But he guesses that’s the best he’s going to get. Particularly, out of a man like Haytham Kenway.

-

The two continue to talk about mundane things, about Shay’s hunt for the Assassins and about what they’ve found out in Albany. A couple of hours pass by as they wait for the blood moon to rise above the horizon.

And when it does, both of them don’t need to look outside to know it has.

Shay suddenly stops midsentence and bows his head with a pained groan. His breathing becomes shaky and his whole body tremors. He goes to stand in haste but his knees instantly give way. He falls forward and Haytham is quick to catch him, but Shay pushes him away just as fast. He keeps his back to Haytham, not wanting him to see the full mess of the transformation.

It feels different though. More like rats clawing through something to escape fire. Something burning hot within his core that instantly makes him break out in a sweat. It’s hard not to shout. It’s hard not to give in to the choke sob itching at the back of his throat.

And all Haytham can do is stand back and watch.

On the floor, Shay cowers on his hands and knees. Bones can be heard popping and breaking out of their sockets. The first cry that comes from Shay’s throat is something that Haytham will never get use to. No matter how many times he’s seen Shay’s skin ripple and change as if there’s something alive moving under there. No matter how many times he’s heard bones break to only heal back into stronger, bigger ones. No matter how many times he’s watched Shay’s skull and jaw snap and break to elongate forward into a wolf like snout. No matter how many times he’s watched human teeth get pushed out to make way for long fangs that snap and clash together past the blood that erupts from his mouth.

No matter how many times, Haytham will always feel sick in his stomach at the sight of such an inhuman act of God. He doesn’t even truly know if God has a play at this. This is something else entirely. Something that an average human would not be able to grasp at with their small minds. One where they would be instantly calling this a sin. Something that Satan has bestowed upon them and that needs to be burnt with fire. But something like this would only laugh within the flames. He’s seen a were do it before. A truly terrifying sight to behold.  

Shay grows at least twice his size, his legs twisting into something wolf like and he rips his pants in the process. A thick layer of dark brown fur grows quickly over his body, more shaggy around his neck and face that is so thick that it’s hard to get to the skin underneath. Hard for a blade to get through.

Haytham watches this all unfold in front of him, keeping as still as he possibly can. He won’t lie, knowing the unknown right now terrifies him. Especially as two amber eyes slowly turn his way. A silence falls over the cabin that has Haytham’s heart beating loudly in his ears.  

Shay breathes heavily, panting like a mutt with his tongue lolled out. For a moment, Haytham thinks that Shay is all here. That the blood moon hasn’t done anything to Shay’s will.

But his lip curl up in a snarl to reveal long fangs underneath. Shay tries to stand to his full height, but his head hits the top of the cabin with a loud thud. His ears flick in annoyance but his eyes are locked onto Haytham. Even hunched over, it’s as if Shay takes up half of the cabin. He stands more humanoid than anything but his face is wolf like. It’s short and stubby, his teeth virtually too big for his mouth. It’s something mixed between human and wolf, something that Haytham will only be able to explain as a were and nothing else.

“Shay,” Haytham speaks firmly.

This is only met with a deep, chesty growl that rattles the entire cabin. Haytham is just glad that the crew is gone. Because he wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this.

Shay jumps forward suddenly and for a moment, all Haytham sees is teeth. But he moves out of the way just in time, feeling claws graze against his shoulder. The loud clack of teeth vibrates against Haytham’s brain as he rushes over to the table. Shay destroys the chair as he lands on it, bits of it going flying. But he doesn’t care for it, he’s already moving Haytham’s way again, claws digging into the wooden floor to gain the space between them.

The amount of force that Shay rushes Haytham as he barges into the table is something that reminds him of a bull. Said table flips over and blocks the only exit, papers and reports flying everywhere that rain down around Shay. Another snarl is spat Haytham’s way and true fear strikes his gut.

Fear that he might have to do something he truly did not want to do tonight.

Shay jumps forward again with every intention of latching himself onto Haytham’s shoulder and tearing off his arm. But Haytham moves before he can think. He ducks and grabs onto Shay’s snout, wrapping his entire arms around and holding tight.

Haytham is thrown about as Shay shakes his head violently, trying to pry this human off of him. This small “victory” is short lived though. Haytham’s grip slips only for a moment, and similar to some raging bull again, Shay throws his head to the side and flings the Grandmaster. Haytham hits the back of the cabin wall with a loud crack. All the wind is crushed out of him and he lands on the floor in a heap.

Shay lands on all fours heavily, shaking the whole ship and prowls over to Haytham. His lips curl up again to show off his fangs, all but dripping saliva as he nears.

Haytham shifts and rolls onto his back so that he’s facing Shay full on. He flicks out his blade, finally bringing up the might to do something. But with how sluggish his mind and body is, he isn’t able to move his arm in time before it’s crushed under one of Shay’s hands. He barks out in pain, not able to retain himself for the moment.

This is how he meets his end then? To his want to not harm someone he loves?

Shay towers over Haytham, his nose becoming mere inches away from his own. Time seems to slow as he looks right into those amber eyes. He stares right back at Haytham and for a moment, he sees Shay. But only for a moment. The effects of the blood moon seem to be something greater than what Shay can break through.

“Shay,” Haytham firmly breathes out finally.

Anyone would find him goddamn crazy right now. They’d be shouting to just kill the thing and be done with it. To fight and lash out or to do anything but be pinned by such a beast. All so this doesn’t happen again. But it’s Shay. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do it. He knows he could, he knows he should, but would he be able to? Now that is a question within itself.

Shay stops his growling and snarling and he just stares at Haytham. The scar over his eye seems more prominent in his were form. One last injury that scarred over before he turned for the first time. Most likely where he was clawed at by Liam, Shay has never truly told him.

Haytham takes a stupid risk and brings his other hand out to Shay’s face. Shay flinches away, but doesn’t move again as Haytham’s hand comes to the side of his large head. The feral look leaves his eyes for a moment again as he lets Haytham touch his cheek. Shay lets go of Haytham’s other arm and quickly, the blade is flicked away.

Shay sniffs him before moving forward ever so slightly. Haytham doesn’t let his guard down, watching this massive form slowly come into his space more so than before. Sniffing him and smelling the fear wafting off him.  

“Shay,” Haytham says again, hoping to get through to the man.

His ribs still hurt and a major headache is coming along. He doesn’t want to be thrown around like that again. Not ever.

But to his name being spoken, Shay huffs. But there’s still a slight crazed look about his eyes. Something that the blood moon is doing to him. Causing him to act out. Some humanity has come back into him, but the blood moon still has its effects.

The next thing he does makes all the sense on his feral behaviour. A clawed hand presses itself onto Haytham’s sore chest and pushes him down onto the floor heavily. Then, his clothes are literally being ripped off him. Ripped apart and thrown away until enough of Haytham is revealed.

A feral rut. That is what the blood moon causes. Something that werewolves can’t control and become insane over.

And all Haytham can do is watch as his heart quickens in his chest. Anticipation prickles at his skin as he watches rows of teeth that were just trying to kill him moments before lower to his crotch. As a hot, thick wet tongue licks a strip over Haytham’s ass, it becomes very, very clear now on what the blood moon does. His suspicions were right.  

But the buzz that washes over Haytham at the odd sensation makes him quickly realise, he’s not all apposed to this. Something so dangerous, so close, yet so arousing. Shay licks another hot strip across Haytham’s ass and up to his balls, leaving behind a thick saliva that feels sticky.

If this will stop Shay from going on a rage in Albany, then so be it. Best keep this act to this room than anywhere else.

Haytham is just lucky that he was able to calm Shay down from harming him to get what he wanted. Any bite from Shay and Haytham would be in the same predicament as him.

Shay licks and laps at Haytham’s ass, using a clawed hand to spread him open for better access. Almost folding the Grandmaster in half and into the floor. The pain in Haytham’s chest melts away at the sensation that overtakes his body at Shay’s tongue. It’s as if Shay can’t get enough of him, tasting his muskiness from today’s work.

This goes on for awhile and Haytham keeps himself in check. All so that he can watch just where Shay’s teeth go. His professionalism is something that does get in the way sometimes.

But all focus is thrown out the window when Shay’s tongue is pushed deeply into his ass all at once. Haytham throws his head back with a deep, grinded groan, his body twitching at the warm, sticky sensation inside of him.

And Shay doesn’t stop. He uses his tongue to lick inside of Haytham, opening his mouth as wide as he can to push as much in. Haytham’s hard cock twitches and bobs with each movement from Shay, precum dripping onto his stomach. Every movement has Haytham panting and moaning noises he never thought he could admit. The bliss that pools over Haytham is something akin to being high.

He can feel Shay’s tongue go as far in as it can get, moving and pressing against the walls of his ass before coming back out. Just to do the same thing over again. Each pass of the tongue hits a bundle of nerve that has Haytham’s breath hitching every time. It’s so warm and Shay breathes heavily, concentrating on his work at hand.

He has never seen Shay’s werewolf form as a means for pleasure or sexual desire. But maybe they should have done this sooner. Just not during a blood moon next time.

Shay removes his tongue, having deemed it being enough. The emptiness Shay leaves behind is something Haytham has never felt such a burning desire to be filled again. But he gets his desire. Shay moves up and over Haytham, revealing the thick cock between the werewolf’s legs.

Haytham swallows thickly as Shay’s big hand hold him down by his shoulders. Painfully pinning him down. All Haytham can do is keep his legs open so that that thing can fit inside of him. Because at this point, he doesn’t think he can stop Shay. Nor does he want to stop.

Shay lines himself up and pushes in a little eagerly. He growls deep in his chest at the warm feeling of Haytham. He dives in deeper, rutting into Haytham bit by bit.

The stretch for Haytham punches the wind out of him instantly. He grips onto Shay’s wrist, not to push him off, but for some kind of support. It hurts. The more of Shay that Haytham takes, the more of the stretch and the fit is painful.

“Sh-ah ah! Shay,” Haytham tries to get through to him.

But it seems the rut of the blood moon has taken a stronger hold than before. Because his rhythm doesn’t stop. He keeps going, panting over the top of Haytham, grunting every now and again. Haytham’s ass is lifted into the air again as Shay gets a better angle to abuse it.

The size of Shay makes Haytham feel like he’s going to split in half. He feels so full. The pain is still there but it begins to feel a little too good, Shay’s saliva helping a lot. With each hard thrust, a moan is pushed out of Haytham as he’s moved up the floor little by little. They keep moving until Haytham’s head hits the base of the bed.

Shay keeps going, his pace quickening to something desperate. Haytham’s entire body feels like it’s on fire, his untouched dick leaking even more than before. Haytham brings a hand to his own cock, hissing at how sensitive he is. He uses his own precum to jerk himself quickly to Shay’s brutal pace. He can feel himself coming close, but he doesn’t know how much longer Shay is going to be at it for. He holds the base of his cock, hoping to hold out until Shay is done with him.

At that thought, Shay goes on for a few more blissful minutes. Haytham gets lost in the pleasure that makes his head a mess. Shay doesn’t let up once. Hitting that spot inside of Haytham that has his head spinning and has him being left breathless every single time. Haytham looses track of time. He gets lost in it all. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold out when Shay is finished.

Haytham comes in his stomach, his vision going spotty and black. He doesn’t know if he had his eyes shut or if the orgasm was just that good, but he’ll never know. But his orgasm rips through him like a storm, taking his breath away.

Shay keeps going, fucking him through it and it all becomes a bit too much. Haytham pants and groans as everything becomes sensitive. He can’t even touch his own dick. He holds onto Shay again, just hoping that that were’s stamina dies out soon enough.

Just as Haytham thinks that Shay is never going to stop, the werewolf growls deep in his chest as his movements stutter. He dives his cock deep into Haytham’s ass and fills him up. The hot, sticky sensation that fills Haytham has him catching his breath. It just feels like it keeps going. He can feel Shay’s dick pulsing inside of him, unloading himself until there’s nothing left. Until it’s seeping out of Haytham and onto the floor beneath him.

Haytham has trouble finding air as he falls limp on the floor. Shay slowly takes his softening cock out of him and lest Haytham lay on still. Haytham just hopes that Shay doesn’t need a round two any time soon tonight because this alone, has the more man spent.

[gococogo]

Having Earned More Pt 2 | Shaytham

Pt 1.

Synopsis : Before Shay travels out to take down Achilles and Liam before they do more harm than good, Haytham meets up with him unexpectedly. Even with his nerves sparking with electricity for the fight ahead, he's still able to show Haytham that he still wants to return the favour.

Word Count : 5k

Genre : Smut

Pairing : Shay Cormac / Haytham Kenway

[Warnings] : Anal sex/Bottom!Haytham Kenway/Top!Shay Cormac/Fingering/Gentle Sex

Shay had to move quick. He couldn’t return to New York to report back to Haytham. Time is running out. From what le Chevalier had told him, Achilles and Liam were on their way to another precursor sight. Haytham would understand. He’d come back with more than a report on le Chevalier, he’d have the whole damn Brotherhood. He’d be able to present the box to Haytham and this would all be over.

But his hopes are short lived as one of his crew members shout at the top of their lungs, “Sails astern!”

Shay turns so quickly that if he moved any quicker he would of given himself whiplash. He keeps one hand on the wheel, using his vision to sight the ship. Gist is already handing him his spyglass and taking over on the wheel as Shay steps closer to the stern. He holds the glass to his eye and sets his sights upon the ship. Their flag whips in the wind. A Templar flag. Shay lowers his spyglass with a furrowed brow.  

“Is there any report of a Templar being out this far?” Shay asks without taking his eyes off the ship.

“Only us, Captain,” Gist answers a little bluntly.

Shay frown deepens. Even the tone in Gist’s voice tells him that he’s weary of the situation. His sharp eyes watch the sails, a speck of white on the horizon. It isn’t fear that rises and clenches his throat tight but a need to know who has come all this way out in the ice to meet them. He exhales, a cloud of breath blowing away.  

“Lay anchor and bring in the sails!” Shay bellows out his order.

-

Haytham is the first to step aboard the Morrigan, closely followed by Charles Lee. Shay can’t help the confused, distorted look that comes across his face. He straightens himself up though as he makes his way down the stairs to main deck to greet his Grandmaster. The last thing he wants Haytham to think is that he is displeased to see him. Gist takes the helm from Shay, keeping the Morrigan steady.

“Master Kenway, what brings you out here?” Shay asks formally.

Haytham sways on his feet a bit, still getting use to the rock and sway of the ship. But he stands strong and straight, his chest forward and chin held slightly up. He makes himself look bigger even though he stands at a medium height of a man. Shay stands at least a few inches above him, but it doesn’t matter. It’s clear who is in charge when they stand side by side.

Unlike Charles Lee who looks a right ol’ mess. He’s pale in the face and looks like he’s about to fall over the side of the Morrigan. It amuses Shay but he doesn’t let it show on his face.  

Haytham speaks sternly, “It was a bit of trouble finding you. But the cannon fire and smoke wasn’t hard to miss from afar,” he glances around the ship as he talks before returning to Shay. “I realized quickly that I wanted to see to the next Assassin dead. But I realize I’m a little too late?”

Shay lets out a short chuckle to cover up the heat he can feel burning on his face. “Almost perfect timing actually, sir.”

“Yes?” Haytham raises a brow.

“I’m on my way to stop Achillies and Liam in the north at a precursor sight. Le Chevalier was just but a mere distraction,” Shay explains all while he slowly makes his way back to the quarter deck.

He’s eager to go. He wants to lower the sails and catch the wind to stop the madness ahead. But without trying to make a scene, Haytham gives a shy nod to Shay with a short and almost unnoticed hand gesture at his side to the Captain. Only Shay sees it and he stops in his tracks, one foot on the first step of the stairs. Charles is too busy keeping himself up right to make a comment on anything.

“Charles, head back to New York,” Haytham answers without looking towards the man. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Shay. “I’m heading with Captain Cormac to the final location.”

Charles Lee perks up at this. “What about me, sir?”

Haytham finally gives him the satisfaction of looking in his direction. “You are going to take a trip back New York and wait until I’ve arrived back.”

This gets a reaction from Charles. His face goes as wide as a sauce pan and he looks between Haytham and Shay.

“Sir, with all due respect I-“

Charles shuts up when a hand is raised in his face. The Grandmaster’s dark stare is enough to quite anyone but this is Charles. He’ll keep talking and yapping despite the obvious signs of wanting him to stop.

“I need someone I trust in New York,” Haytham has to hold his sneer from scrunching up his nose.

At that, Charles’s demeaner changes to something satisfied. Shay clearly sees the annoyance radiating from the Grandmaster but someone as blind as Charles, it’s like a moth to a flame. As if to be proud that Haytham trusts him enough to man the fort in New York. A large smile appears under that moustache that Shay finds very annoying. He’s never liked Charles. Has always found him seeking and getting his nose into people’s business that he doesn’t have any mean to be in. He tends to stay away from Boston where the man likes to do his own business.

The one time he was along in a room with him, he talked down to Shay the entire time. Commenting about his former alliance and how he shouldn’t properly be trusted. Then as soon as Haytham had rejoined them, the boot licker’s personality was back.  

And here it was again. That sparkle in his eye any time Haytham looked his way. Like some lost pup that had forcefully attached itself to one person and wouldn’t leave them alone. The urge to tell him to get off his ship was strong, but Shay holds his tongue for professional reasons. Not in front of Haytham.  

“I’ll do just that,” Charles says with a low bow of his head. “I’ll see you upon your return.”

And with that, Charles Lee crosses the plank back to the Schooner Haytham voyaged out here. As soon as the plank is drawn back from the Morrigan, Shay is calling out for full sails. He almost runs up to the quarter deck and takes the helm from Gist.

“Raise the anchor! I want main sails! We’re going to get there as fast as we can!” Shay calls out to his crew.

Half the men respond back to him, acknowledging they’ve heard him and it’s like a frenzy on deck. Men run and pull ropes, climbing masts and letting red sails fly. The other half of the crew push the Morrigan away from Haytham’s schooner so they can set forward with scrapping sides. The trust the crew has in Shay and vice a versa is something Haytham has always dreamed of. But he also knows this bond between man and Captain is something only found out at sea and on a ship. It’s something earned and respected. Earned by being days out at sea and seeing the worst and the best of days together.

As the sails are let down, Haytham makes his way up next to Shay. He nearly falls over halfway up the stairs as the Morrigan suddenly lurches forward as she catches the wind. Haytham holds onto his hat as he makes the rest of the way up. A big smile comes across Shay’s face that he can’t hide. At the fact that the Morrigan is set a sail again and that Haytham is beside him.

But it quickly fades as soon as it comes. The destination quickly comes to mind. His excitement is short lived, his mood quickly becoming dull and sorrowful. He doesn’t know if anyone else has picked up the sudden change but he hopes not. He gives a quick glance to Haytham who is looking over his crew. Seeming to be fascinated with how they work. Haytham catches him staring, blue meeting brown. Yet, Shay can’t find himself to look away.  

“Report back to me now,” Haytham says over the rushing wind and thrashing waves, looking back out to the deck.

Shay seems to snap out of a trance and looks forward as well. The rest of the evening is Shay updating the Grandmaster as they sail north in the brisk cold. The sail is smooth though, any ice sheet that comes their way is smashed through with their ram. The Morrigan is strong and something of a menace.

Every time Haytham is aboard the Morrigan, an unknown sort of jealously arises inside of him that he can’t quite place. Might be one from never stepping foot on his father’s ship. Or that he has never met a Captain such like Shay before. Might or one or both between.

But Shay’s voice flows through the wind like some siren song. A thing that Haytham finds himself enjoying and one he could listen to for ages. None have quite perked the interested of Haytham Kenway much like the Captain of the Morrigan.  

-

The night comes quick and by the end of it, Shay’s voice has become hoarse from talking into the freezing wind. He didn’t stop once though, giving Haytham everything and anything in between. Answering every question that was asked his way with an even longer story.

It’s Gist that stops them. Shay’s first mate that notices the slouch in his Captain’s shoulders and how is voice sounds compared to a couple of hours ago.  

“Captain, I can take over if you want to call it a night?”

Shay is about to protest. That he can be out here for a couple more hours while Gist gets some rest himself, but Haytham beats him to it.

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” the Grandmaster pipes up. “Shay, there are more private things I need to discuss with you,” he says as he’s already making his way down the stairs.  

Shay stares off after the Grandmaster. He looks to Gist with a half smile.

“Best be off then. Boss has called,” he says before handing the helm over to his first mate. “Have one of the boys take over before you call it a night, Gist.”

“Will do.”

Haytham has already made his way inside of Shay’s quarters. It makes him slightly nervous at what he’s sniffing around at. Maybe the nervous flutter in his chest isn’t from Haytham snooping. He hasn’t been able to properly think about what happened between them a few weeks ago. Yes, he’s been wanting more of Haytham but Le Chevalier has been on his mind instead. His focus has been the precursor sites. If this private talk is about the moment they shared, the moment where Haytham showed him how much he truly cares then he hopes the Grandmaster can understand.

When stepping into his own quarters, Haytham is inspecting the model ship of the Morrigan. He doesn’t touch it, he knows it’s best not to despite how stunning it is. Haytham had heard Shay enter, but did not hear his soft and quiet footsteps come up behind him.

“How long have you had this?” Haytham simply asks.

Shay has to ponder for a moment. It’s been awhile but it’s always been there since he’s had the ship.

“When I took the Morrigan for myself, the model was already here,” Shay explains as he steps closer behind Haytham.

He’s close enough that his weapon straps on his chest could touch him if he leaned forward a bit. Shay smells strongly of gunpowder and the ocean. Salty and honestly, slightly fishy. But it’s a familiarity that Haytham would never admit.

“Why did you come out this far north, sir?” Shay asks after a long break of silence.

Haytham smiles to himself as he turns to face the hunter. With Shay’s added height, Haytham has to turn his chin up to look at the man in front of him eye to eye. He is truly a force to be reckoned with and Haytham has him to himself. He is on their side and they’re about to finish what Shay started. He wanted to be here to see that. For Shay to see this through.

But, truth be told, Haytham had begun to worry about Shay. Had a feeling this would be coming to a close very shortly. And, he was right. Shay would have returned and reported back just fine. Haytham has that trust in him. It’s just the thought of not being there while it all happened is what brought him this far north. What brought him upon renting a schooner and following the Morrigan’s course and tailing him all the way out here. When he had heard the cannon fire on the horizon, he had insisted that they join the fight. Yet Shay will not know of all that.

He will simply know, “To make sure that you don’t lose your head.”

That brings a light snicker from Shay but his brown eyes don’t leave Haytham. Shay’s touch is hesitant as his fingers glide up Haytham’s arms to lightly hold him.  

“Mhm, sure,” Shay grins as he comes ever so closer to his face. “Telling me not to lose my head, is that what was so important to tell me in private?”  

Haytham leans up for a kiss but stops a mere hair away from Shay, watching the Captain stare down at him through his lashes before going the rest of the way. Weary and gentle. Shay’s hand comes to the back of Haytham’s head, fingers raking into his hair and untying his ribbon. His hat is knocked off as Shay only wants more, deepening the kiss ever more. Neither of them want to rush this even though they both know the travel ahead.

Shay guides Haytham backwards all while unclothing him with cold fingers. Taking off his cloak and then his coat. In only his shirt, the brisk air quickly latches onto his skin and goosebumps rise with his hairs. The back of his legs hit the bed and he’s push down slowly with a hand on his chest. He goes down willingly.

“Losing my head, you said? It does feel like it when you do this to me,” Shay confesses, standing in front of Haytham still fully clothed.

“Oh?” Haytham says with a raised brow.

Shay smirks down at him. It’s at this angle that Haytham thinks that this must be what men see before they die at his hand. Almost a shadow in the night, staring down with dark predator like eyes. The look Shay gives him is one that wants to pounce, but its restrained. Those men that have died by his place have seen the other side of that predatory look.

He sits up on his elbows while he says, “This is highly unfair.”

Shay smiles as he begins to undo the straps that go across his chest. It takes too long for Haytham that he sits up fully and pulls Shay closer by his belt to undo it. The both of them get Shay down to just his pants in a good few passing minutes with just how many layers the man wears. Haytham never got to see what was under all those layers that night. But now he can see Shay’s refined form from years of discipline and hard work. Scarred with years of battle and fighting.

Haytham can’t help but run his hands down Shay’s chest to his hips. His fingers lightly touching the scars that mar his skin. The touch has the man almost flinching away, trying to hold himself in place.

“Ticklish?” Haytham raises a brow.

Shay gently wraps his hands around his and takes them off his stomach. “Your hands are cold, sir.”

This has Haytham barking a short laugh. It sounds odd but it’s a rare thing to hear and Shay drinks it up. He pushes Haytham down to his back again as he crawls over the top of him. He hisses in sharply as Haytham’s cold fingers touch his sides again. He can’t stop touching him.

Shay comes down close to Haytham’s face, their noses barely touching. Haytham leans up to kiss him but Shay moves just out of reach. A protest is on the tip of his tongue when the Captain looks away sheepishly.

“I want to…” the hunter’s gaze comes back to Haytham, “…return the favour.”

“Hmm.” Haytham agrees, a sly smile coming to his lips. “How would you like me then?” He talks so softly that Shay could have missed such a sweet question over the water splashing against the sides of the Morrigan.

Shay finally captures their cold lips together. Haytham holds his breath, closing his eyes and getting lost in the moment. Kissing Shay is so much different to anyone else he’s been with in the past. Shay is rough and stern, musky and salty, and firm unlike a woman or any of the other young men Haytham’s messed around with in his youth. It goes straight to his cock, his gut buzzing. As much as he wants to touch himself, he holds the sides of Shay’s face, not wanting this moment to end. But they have to part at some point to breath, too captured by the other to notice their lack of air.

Shay rests his forehead against Haytham. “You’re perfect like this.” He says before he sits up on his knees.

He bends over awkwardly, reaching over backwards to his nightstand. In the draw, he grabs out a bottle of oil and comes back. He sets it down next to Haytham on the blankets before his icy fingers hook his pants. He expects Shay to just take them off but big brown eyes stare at him.

“May I?” The Captain of the Morrigan, asks for permission.

Haytham has to hold back a smile, but the amusement can be heard into his voice as he answers with a soft, “Yes.”

With such a gentle touch for a Templar, Shay takes Haytham’s pants off. The cold instantly hits Haytham, keeping his dick semi hard. But Shay looks down at him with such adoration that it has his ears going red. An odd flutter appears in his chest that he wishes would go away, a tightness in his throat that seems to be choking him.

Shay grabs the bottle of oil and slicks up his fingers generously. Haytham watches him with anticipation. He quickly becomes confused as Shay reaches around to his own ass. Haytham grabs Shay’s arm and holds him still.

“No,” Haytham shakes his head lightly. “You said you wanted to return the favour. Do it this way,” he says as he opens his legs a little wider for Shay to get the message.

His brown eyes seem to get a twinkle in them as he shifts himself snuggly behind Haytham. His unslicked hand grabs on of Haytham’s thighs and pushes it out further to reveal himself more. He should feel like a dime whore giving himself up like this. The Grandmaster of the American Templar Order giving himself up to another man. But it’s Shay. He’s not just some other man.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this to me, sir,” Shay breathes out.

“Doing what?” Haytham quirks.

Shay squeezes his thigh softly. “Giving yourself to me.”

The ship glides over the water calmly and the cold seems to come forth a little bit more. Chilling Haytham’s skin with goosebumps. Or maybe Shay’s words is that, that has given him chills to cover him.

Haytham counteracts it, realizing he doesn’t have anything to say, “Are you going to stare at me all night in the cold, Shay?”

His face reddens as he looks down, the Irishman clearing his throat. Shay gently brings one oiled finger to Haytham’s ass finally and pushes in. Haytham hasn’t done this in a while so the touch is foreign, but not enough so that it isn’t welcome. After a couple of strokes and with Haytham relaxing, Shay adds a second. This gets a grunt from the Grandmaster. But Haytham can’t help the deep yelp that escapes his throat as Shay pours cold oil over his ass.

“Sorry!” Shay is quick to say.

Haytham goes to snap but his words get caught in his throat as Shay adds a third finger with the rest. He can’t help but pant as Shay works him open. His entire body buzzes and sparks. His hands fists into the blankets and he grinds his teeth, trying to keep himself from making a noise. He hasn’t felt this thrill of pleasure in ages. He must be a sight at the moment.

When Shay deems it enough, he takes his fingers out to Haytham’s dismay. He watches Shay with hooded eyes as he shuffled back off the bed to take his pants off to reveal the rest of him. His dick is half hard but as he shuffles back onto the bed, he strokes it a couple times with his oiled hand to bring it to full length. Seeing Shay fully naked now has Haytham realizing how refined this man is. The scars travel down his thighs and there are even some around his hips. Each white line most likely has a story and Haytham will have to get them out of Shay later on.

Haytham sits up and meets Shay with another kiss. He seems to can’t get enough of the taste of salt on the Captain’s lips and skin. Shay’s hands make their way under Haytham’s shirt, feeling him up. He knows he’s not as hardy as the other, his stomach a little bit softer, but all of his strength is in his chest and arms. Shay takes his shirt off swiftly before laying him back down on the bed. Haytham has a few older scars on his body that are now faint and fading, nothing like Shay’s. A higher-class Templar life does that to a man, only having to worry about an Assassin that will come around one day and give the killing blow. Nothing that one could walk away from. No scars to hold as trophies. Assassins don’t allow that.    

Shay grabs the bottle of oil again and slicks up his dick, hissing at the cold substance. Haytham holds his breath as Shay lines himself up, the head of his cock resting against his hole. Brown eyes glance at him, as if asking if he’s ready before pushing forward carefully.

Haytham tenses immediately as the head eases in, there being enough oil and prep that it goes in without resistance. Shay stops and waits for Haytham to give him a hard stare before continuing on. With how much violence this man as wrought it’s odd to see him so worrisome and gentle. Yes, this man tends to wear his heart on his shoulder, but he also hides it under his need to do the right thing. And if the right thing needs a monster, than Shay will show just that.

Shay pushes forward, slowly easing out and then thrusting again to get himself inside Haytham little by little. The stretch is uncomfortable and Haytham covers his face to stop the groans and whines coming from his mouth. With each bit that Shay is able to get inside, Haytham feels himself come apart. He can’t help his legs wrapping around the back of Shay’s back and almost pushing down the rest of the way. He feels such loss of control that it’s almost scary. It’s not until Shay is fully sheathed that Haytham’s hand is pried from his face. His hand is replaced with delicate lips that seem to peck over his lips, cheeks and forehead.

It’s all a little too much. Haytham knows he’s the one that has given himself up, but he can’t remember when he has been treated with such kindness. He doesn’t realize that there are tears spilling from his eyes until Shay is kissing them away. He hasn’t move within Haytham the entire time, keeping still and it’s making him itch. He isn’t crying, but the tears do drip down the side of his face and into his hair.

“Shay,” Haytham breathes out. “M-Move, for the love of God.”

A deep chuckle escapes Shay’s throat in Haytham’s ear that goes straight to his crotch. Shay pulls out only a bit and more or less begins a grind into his ass. It may not be a lot, but each movement drags along Haytham’s prostate, the oil easily helping the slide. He holds onto Shay as the other buries his face into his neck to apply more kisses to his skin. At this point, Haytham can’t help the breathless panting groans that come from him.

His wrapped legs hold tighter onto Shay and his nail seem to dig into his scarred back. He hasn’t gone two minutes and his body already feels like jelly, his body buzzing with want and a need to release. Haytham realizes that it has been quite a while since he has done something like this.

Shay changes his rhythm to something more, pulling halfway out then thrusting in over and over again. Haytham’s groans turn into panty moans. Even Shay now makes noises in Haytham’s ear, noises that only bring him closer to his release. The cold is long forgotten as their body heat is now radiating off both of them. The coil of pleasure tightens in Haytham’s gut and he knows he won’t be able to hold out for any longer.  

“S-Shay,” he accidently whines out. “Sh-Shay.”

Said man rises to his hands, thrusting into him at a different angle. He then changes it completely again as he sits up and grabs onto the back of Haytham’s thighs and pushes them forward until his knees are near his face, folding him in half. It gives Shay better access to thrust in and it’s clear he’s becoming desperate now, but still all while giving Haytham something. Because this, is going to send him over the edge. He can’t think straight now as every thrust pounds down in that spot that sends shocks through him and has him gripping the blankets again. His hair is like a halo around him and he stares up at Shay through hooded lashes.  

His hard dick hangs fully erect between them and hasn’t been touched this entire time, leaking pre cum onto his chest. If Haytham touches himself, he’s going to break, he’s going to come undone. He’s trying to hold on but even the sight of Shay seeming to concentrate on the even pace he sets himself is enough to push him over.

After a couple of more thrusts, Haytham can’t take it anymore. He’s sounding more like some virgin that has never been fucked in his entire life. Anyone outside the cabin be damned. He wraps a hand around his own dick and with a couple of sloppy strokes, he’s tensing up and almost locking Shay into place as he comes onto his own chest with a choked cry. Shay pants as he moves, pushing Haytham through his orgasm to meet his own. Haytham’s scrunched up expression as he comes is something that will be forever held onto. With a couple of more shallow grinds into Haytham, Shay quickly takes his dick out and comes onto Haytham’s stomach instead with a loud cry. It’s an odd feeling on Haytham’s part but he could care less right now. His entire body is buzzing and his vision is hazy. Shay stays where he is, shaking visibly and panting loudly.

The chill of the night quickly seeps upon Haytham before he can come down from his high. It seems to sober him up real quick.

“Shay, may you pass something to clean me up?” he asks drowsily.

Shay is quick to stand, his legs nearly giving out on him though but he stills grab Haytham a hand towel from across the room. It’s an amusing sight seeing the man’s pale ass skip across the room to fetch said item. Shay hand’s it to him before laying down on the bed next to the man. Haytham sits up on his elbows and cleans himself up the best he can. But he wants it done quickly as all he wants is to get under these blankets and fall asleep.

“It’s bloody cold,” Haytham grumbles.

Shay exhales a short laugh. “You get use to it.”

Haytham shakes his head as he chucks the towel onto the ground. “Move over so I can get underneath these damned blankets. I’m not walking all the way back to my quarters after most of the ship probably heard us.”

“I see you don’t do the walk of shame, sir,” Shay jokes as he hops off the bed and pulls back the covers.

Haytham rolls underneath them, already feeling warmer. “No,” he pouts.

Shay covers the bed with a couple of wolf and polar bear furs before sidling in next to Haytham. It’s warm and they may still smell of sex but neither of them care. The heat that seems to radiate off of Shay is something like a fire and Haytham holds onto him to capture that. Shay holds onto him, an arm wrapped around his shoulders to keep him warm. Haytham is content.  

After a few moments of peace though and with Haytham on the verge of sleep in the arms of Shay, said man perks up a question.

“What comes after this?”

Haytham hums in reply, not fully hearing the question.

“What will my orders be after this is all over?” Shay repeats.

The Grandmaster thinks for a moment. “There is always something next for the Order. Let’s just concentrate on Achilles and the task at hand,” he replies.

This, Shay seems content with. Haytham is finally able to fall asleep in the warmth of another all while Shay stays up thinking about the fight ahead. All with little knowledge that Haytham is about to send him away on orders for the next two decades.

[gococogo]

✭ Coco's Kinktober 2023 Masterlist ✭

The time had come upon us writers. Where we ROSE to write our deepest fantasies. But, we also provide for those people in mass that awaited this month. Please enjoy what I had bestowed upon you. Like, reblog and replenish your soul with the smut. Amen.

1. Voyeurism - Shaytham

2. Thigh Riding - Shaytham

3. Bath sex - Shaytham

4. Break

5. Break

6. Break

7. Drunk Sex - Shaytham

8. Break

9. Break

10. Priest/Demon - Destiel

11. Vampire/Blood Kink - Shaytham

12. Break

13.  Break

14. Facefucking/Eating out - SilverV

15. Break

16. Break

17. Break

18. Break

19. Break

20. Break

21. Gentle Sex - Shaytham

22. Break

23. Break

24. Break

25. Break

26. Break

27. Break

28. Break

29. Break

30. Break

31. Werewolf - Shaytham

[ao3feed-assassinscreed]

Womanly Men!

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2WLofbl

by YotomoriKingdom

This is a cute/sexy story about my our favorite couple shaytham! I made this story becuz sadly there aren't any smut or very good stories out there for Shaytham. I mean, I have read very good stories like Trival Things, AWESOME STORY! I loooovvveee that story! Anyway, so this is a story about Haytham and Shay little love for each other. Will someone come and destroy want these two have of their love? Find out in Womenly Men!

Enjoy! :3333

Words: 667, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Shaytham - Fandom, Assassins Creed - Fandom

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Shay Cormac, Haytham Kenway, Charles Lee, Christopher Gist, Thomas Hickey, Connor Kenway

Relationships: Haytham x Shay, Shaytham - Relationship, Shay x Haytham

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2WLofbl