50 Shaydes of Haytham.

Chapter 6: Discipline.

--- Shay POV ----

Knock Knock Knock "Come in." Shay called out. The butler entered, handed him the letter, curtly bowed and left, all without saying a word. Shay examined the front of the envelope and come to the conclusion that the letter was from Haytham considering the handwriting. He opened the letter and read it. Shay was a bit confused, what did the Grandmaster want to talk about? The letter was so vague, it made shay worried. He reached down into his pocket and pulled a silver pocket watch with a red Templar cross with gold edging and opened it to check the time.

---- 10 minutes later. ----

Shay stood outside the Grandmaster's study and knocked firmly three times. "Come in Shay." Haytham relied from the other side of the door. Shay entered the room, closing the door behind him. Shay stood to attention before the Grandmaster's desk, hands behind his back, standing upright. "Have a seat Shay." Haytham said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. Shay felt that panic rise in as he took his offer and sat down placing his hands in his lap nervously. Haytham began unbuttoning his waistcoat, slowly, one button at a time. Almost to be dramatic. He walked round from behind his desk, pulling his waistcoat off. "You are probably wondering why I called you into my study." He said in a lower, calmer tone than usual. Hanging the item of clothing on the coat rack behind Shay by the door.

Pacing behind shay, he bends down so his mouth is hovering between his ear and neck. Voice lowered even more he whispers "I think we should relieve tensions that have been lingering since the ship." He stands upright and paces towards his desk, beginning to roll up his sleeve, lightly sitting on the edge of the desk. Rolling the sleeve up the rest of the way, he hums for an answer. Shay Blushing, mouth slightly open. "Well?" Haytham asks sternly making intense direct contact with Shay who just sits there staring at him in disbelief.

"Uhhh" Shay draws out still dumbstruck. Haytham lets out a sigh, "You always did needed someone to tell you what to do." Haytham says finishing the other sleeve. "Stand up and take that waistcoat off, boy." Gesturing to the coat rack, Shay obliges, stripping off the item and hanging it on the rack. Haytham stands up and puts a hand on the back of the chair Shay was sitting on. "We don't have to do this, if you don't want to Shay. It's your choice."

Shay turns to face the Grandmaster. "I do." The Irishman replies, suddenly able to compose himself. "I want to do this"

Haytham's hand still on the chair. "Well then, unless you're sure." Removing his hand from the chair and gesturing Shay to sit in it. Shay walks over and sits in it. "What are you going t'do with me?" He asks in a low voice, almost intimidated by the man who was now standing behind him.

"Oh, lots of things" He purred kissing his neck, his hand reaching to Shay's front. his hand slowly ghosting over his chest, his fingers running light shapes onto the fabric. Shay's nipples perk up at the contact. Haytham kisses Shay's neck again and again and again. The Irishman let out a soft sigh, hands grabbing onto the chair, his head rolling back slightly. The other man, puts both palms on Shay's chest and slid them down to his hips, still kissing and sucking on his neck. His hands now in between his legs, gently pushing them apart and rubbing small circles on the inside of his thigh. Shay's head rolled back more into Haytham's kiss, his fingertips dragging into his thighs a bit more.

Suddenly Haytham stopped and stood up straight. Shay sat upright, clearing his throat, his cheeks flushed. The other man, made his way to his desk and opened a draw. He put items on the table one by one. A bottle of oil, a small bundle of black silk scraps and a small spool of rope. He smirked at Shay who surprisingly was smirking back at him. Haytham picked up two of the strips, stuffed them in his pocket and walked back over to the Irishman who's trousers tented, erection evident. Haytham leaned forwards initiating a kiss whilst moving to sit on his lap.