AC: Boxers

Assassin's Creed: Boxers

Desmond was bored out of his skull. There was absolutely nothing for him to do. For once in his life, he seriously considered the Animus as an alternative form of entertainment. However, that thought was quickly banished when he glanced at the innocent looking chair. He wrinkled his nose and looked back around the room. He sighed deeply.

"Seriously, Desmond? Are you just going to sit there and sigh until the girls get back?" Shaun snapped, his gaze focused on the computer screen infront of him.

"What are you talking about?" Desmond responded. He was sitting behind the historians chair; comic books littering the ground around him.

"That has to be the fiftith time you've sigh since they left."

"Talk to me when it reaches a hundred," he muttered.

Shaun groaned softly and hunched further over his keybroad, desprately trying to ignore the man on the floor.

A little over an hour ago Lucy and Rebecca had left the safe house. They, apparently, couldn't handle being cooped up anymore and had decided to go out for a little shopping. Normally, Lucy didn't condone such behavior -- their lives were at stake after all -- but even she was suffering from cabin fever. Desmond had fought furiously to join them but there was just no way. Not with Abstargo still searching for him. And, besides, he wasn't a girl and, therefore, couldn't possibly find enjoyment from a girl's day out. So, he was left behind with Shaun there to watch him. However, she had promised to bring him back more comic books and that Confetti Cake ice cream he loved. With a cheery wave, the girls had turned and disappeared not to be seen again for another few hours.

As soon as they had left, Desmond had plopped himself down behind Shaun's chair with a stack of comic books. Every few pages he would pause and sigh. It was just loud enough that every time he did it, Shaun had to pause his work to rub his temples. So far, he had been doing a very good job of staying sane but, he was very close to duck taping Desmond to the bathroom wall and leaving him there.

Finally, silence fell over the pair. The tapping of keys and the flipping of pages filled the room. Just as Shaun was starting to get comfortable with the gentle noises, Desmond opened his mouth, again. His shoulders tensed and he leaned forward. He was more than ready for the sigh that was most certainly going to come. Instead, he was greeted with something totally different.

"Hey, Shaun. I've got something to show ya."

Despite the trouble that could arrise from such a statement, Shaun looked over at the younger man anyway. "What?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Hold on." Desmond stood up and turned his back to Shaun. There was a brief shuffling noise and then he turned back around, his thumbs hooked into his jeans. Shaun leaned back, not at all sure where this was going. "Check it." The young man jerked his pants and they dropped to the floor. He popped his hands onto his hips and grinned cockily.

Shaun's mouth dropped open. Was he really looking at what he thought he was looking at? "D-Desmond... Are those ducks on your under things?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the tiny little yellow birds that floated on Desmond's boxers.

"Bet you don't have anything cooler. You probably have boring tighty whities," Desmond stated.

Shaun's gaze flickered up and he glowered. "Mr. Miles that is completely and totally inappropriate," he reprimanded, pulling himself up from his chair. "This is a serious work setting and you must act like a professional." While he spoke his hands moved to his dress pants. "And besides," he paused, a smirk pulling over his features. "Your little duckies have nothing on these," he said and yanked his pants down.

"Spaceships?! You've got spaceships!"

He dropped his hands to to his crotch in the universal 'suck it' pose.

"Beats the hell out of duckies doesn't it?" Shaun responded, smirking devilishly. "Got anything else?" He asked, his eyebrow cocked up.

"Hold on!" Desmond kicked his pants off and ran out of the room.

Calmly, Shaun waited, pushing his pants off to the side as well. He crossed his arms over his chest while he waited. Then, Desmond came skidding back into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Vaguely, Shaun wondered why he had left the hoodie on, but, then again, his shirt was still on wasn't it? So, who was he to complain.

He stopped infront of Shaun, his expression childish.

"Beat this." He dropped the towel.

Robots.

Shaun cursed softly. Tiny robots most certainly beat spaceships. He growled softly, he had never been one to lose a battle. "I will," he responded and sped off to his room. He returned a few minutes later a towel around his waist now. In the back of his mind he knew it was a silly battle but, he would prove to Desmond that he was better. And if betterment came in the form of boxers, then so be it.

"How about this?" He dropped his towel. Dinosaurs, little angry dinosaurs.

Desmond chuckled.

Then the battle truly started. As soon as one showed off a pair, the other just had to respond. They hurried back and forth from their bedrooms, towels held loosely around their waists so the surprise wouldn't be ruined.

Bulldogs. Tea Cups.

Stars. Umbrellas.

The pictures got stranger and stranger but neither was willing to give up that single chance that they might one up the other.

Guns. Clocks.

Dancing Bananas. Cats.

Desmond would emerge thinking he had finally won and then Shaun would return with something shockingly out of character for him. Each time the men would laugh at the image presented and then run off to get -- what they thought --- would beat the newest pair. After going through more boxers in half an hour than most men go through in a year, Desmond thought that he finally had won this.

He dropped the towel one last time. He popped his crotch forward, drawing Shaun's eyes downward. Two little construction cones rested over his manhood, the orange searingly bright against the black. Shaun opened his mouth but Desmond stopped him by lifting a finger. "Hang on," he said and turned around, sticking his butt toward the Englishman. There a clever little 'Do Not Enter' sign rested over his backside. Shaun's eyes widened and he blushed, for the first time that day.

"I don't think so," Shaun grumbled and stomped off his room one last time. He had been saving this for the final battle and now, it had arrived. There was no way he was going to lose. He returned gripping the towel tightly in his left hand, his other rested confidently on his hip. "I do hope you are ready for this, Dezzy," Shaun teased.

The towel dropped and so did Desmonds jaw.

"I-is that... The..." He stopped, rubbed his eyes and leaned forward. "No way. You have the Assassin's symbol?" Desmond clapped his hand to his forehead, mouth open in amused shock. "Oh shit. You totally win!"

Shaun lifted his hands as if to say 'why yes, I do have the Assassin's symbol over my manhood, what of it'.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!"

Lucy's voice shot through the room.

The pair's heads snapped sideways so fast it gave them whiplash. Lucy stood by the Animus, her arms full of grocery bags. Behind her Rebecca hovered, she was having a tough time keeping amusement off her features.

"We leave you alone for two hours and you think it would be funny to hold an underwear party?!"

Shaun flushed and looked away. Desmond scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?"

They glanced at eachother and just couldn't take it any more. Desmond dropped his hands to his hips and laughed confidently. Shaun lifted a hand to his mouth, trying, in vain, to smoother his chuckles. The two were soon clutching their stomachs and laughing uproariously. It had suddenly hit them just how stupid it all was. To think that two grown men would pass time by showing off their boxers, specifically these two men was most certainly amusing.

"This isn't funny!"

Desmond laughed so hard he snorted and Shaun nearly fell over at the sound.

So, maybe today hadn't been so boring after all.