The Trouble With Time 31

In the bathroom, indeed.

Shaun was unaware of the handsome devil that threatened to shake the peace in his little cubicle shower world. The assassin that was creeping into the room was super silent on his feet as he tip toed passed the door and closed the obstruction with a barely audible 'click'.

Outside the mirrored door that hid the Brit from sight, Altair slipped off the warm sweatshirt he wore, letting it drop at his feet. Soon, his jeans and boxers followed, left in a pile unceremoniously. He chanced a tiny peek through a crack left between and the sliding door and saw his opening. The brilliant man had his back turned to the door, his hands in his sudsy hair. The glasses were off, sitting on the sink where they wouldn't get wet, which meant that there was a REALLY good chance that Shaun couldn't see passed his nose.

Silent still, the glass was pushed open and Altair stepped inside, blocking the only escape route. Strong, tanned arms slipped around the shocked historiain's hips, barely a moment before the man had a chance to find out where the sudden breeze was coming from. A strangled noise issued from Hastings' lips.

"My God, man! Damn, that stings..." Face was pushed under the water to clear away the burning bubbles that found their way into his eyes upon finding that he wasn't the only one in the stall. Hands scrubbed at the tightly closed lids. "Desmond, I swear if this is you...." A growl slipped passed his lips as a warm nose nuzzled at his shoulder and neck. "You're in SO MUCH TROUBLE when I clean my eyes out!"

"If you are looking for Desmond, then you will have to leave the confines of this room and my arms." The smooth voice belonging to ibn la'Ahad crept into his ears. A bright red flush spread through his cheeks and down his neck, staining his ears pink. Altair was sure that the pale skinned young man was mortified, and that thought alone made him chuckle. "You do not seem so eager to go." Lips pressed to the shell of an ear.

"A-Altair....Gods, what are you doing in here?!" The flustered writer looked over a shoulder to see the smirking Arabian behind him. "I am here to have a bath. You just happened to be here as well." An incredulous look was the only reply for a moment.

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Several snickers were hidden in hands and pillows as an angry Shaun stormed down the hall from the direction of the bathroom.

"Well, that was short-lived," Lucy said as she stood to refill her mug of soda. From somewhere out of eye's view, the Hastings' voice could be heard telling her to 'kiss his lily white arse'. The snickering became full-on laughing after that. Altair appeared not a moment after, fresh and clean from his shared shower.

A ruffled and flushed Shaun emerged from where he'd been hiding, sliding carefully passed Altair. The bespectacled man slapped a hand away as it reached for his butt. "The goods aren't for sale, mate. Not anymore, anyway." Amused golden eyes watched as Shaun swept over to the couch to find a place to sit. He was all-too-eager to slap both Desmond and Ezio in the back of their heads, since it seemed that neither could refrain from giggling and whispering between eachother.

In the background while everyone chit-chatted, 'Crank' played on, half forgotten.