We Are the Lost

Four: Babe

The sky was a dark black veil and the city lights made it appear even darker. But down along the road, among the long stretches of city, the streetlights bloomed in yellows and oranges. They passed by in smeared blurs. The winds roared and bellowed against your helmet, swelling around you as you flew between the slower moving vehicles.

You've never known a greater feeling than being on the back of a bike, speeding down a highway without a single obstacle getting in the way of your wild deluge. You weaved around the next car until you reached a strip of empty road, revving the engine and speeding the rest of the way.

Desmond, however, made it difficult to focus. You were driving and it made sense for you to wear the only helmet available. You just hadn't realized it would give Desmond a perfectly legitimate excuse for burying his face into the warmth of your neck. On the other hand, he had no excuse at all for nipping and suckling longingly against your skin. At least his hands remained steady along your waist. The kneading of his fingers into the soft muscle was altogether a different story.

You didn't pull over. You focused to the best of your abilities, even using it as a way to test how well you could remain on task. There were moments when your eyes lost focus, your lids falling over your vision from the deep rooted desire that Des was skillfully unburying.

You finally neared the cliffs that overlooked city's river, steering the bike towards the edge of the sidewalk and kicking out the stand. You turned the key and jerked off the helmet before shooting him a fierce glare over your shoulder.

Des gave a cheeky grin, toothy and wry as he stood up with raised palms. "I didn't have a helmet and those winds..." He shrugged a nonchalant shoulder as if that excuse somehow explained everything. "I needed to keep the wind out of my eyes."

"Oh really?" You kept your eyes locked with his while you hooked the helmet to the handlebars and slid off the bike. "What's your excuse for the hickey?"

He pulled his lips into his mouth, drawing your attention to how red they were as he slowly licked them. "Well, I, uh..." His hands fell down at his side as he playfully smiled. "Would you hate me if I said it was just an added bonus?"

"Hate you?" You raised a challenging brow, corner of your mouth rising as you sashayed forward. "No. No, I'm just going to beat you into the ground during our first training session."

He gave a crooked grin. "Ouch." His hands reached out and took yours loosely, giving you the opportunity to pull them away if you wanted to. "Try not to mess up my face if you do. I need this winning smile to get me a new job."

You turned away from him, pulling your hands away with the action. Strangely, you regretted the loss of his touch. You didn't let him know it, keeping your tone just as cocky, "New job? And here I thought you'd return to that shotty little bar you worked at."

"Hey," he blurted defensively. "That was a nightclub and it wasn't shotty..." He chuckled softly. "Hold on. How'd you know where I worked? That in my 'file' or something?"

You sauntered over to the cliffside and the line of metal railings along its edge. You could have lied, told him you read it somewhere but you didn't like the idea of lying to him. You rubbed your palms over the cold and smooth metal. "I was tasked to track you down years ago. You really think your father would just let you run off and not have someone track you down?"

His brows pinched, an irritation sparking across his expression and it was the first time you'd ever really seen him angry. "What? My father had you track me? When? Why didn't..." He shook his head and walked off a few steps before turning back around. "Why wasn't I dragged back?"

Your attention focused on your hands, a sudden ache that gripped your chest. "You were safe. You weren't in any danger. You had a job and a place to live." You swallowed the tightening knot in your throat. "I told your father as much and refused to give him your location. You had a shot at freedom and I wanted you to have it. I thought you could do it... Obviously, not." Had you handed him over to the Assassins, things might have been different for him. Safer, even.