Work Text:
"So I've got good news and I've got bad news." Desmond muttered into his earpiece as he hid in a large crowd of civilians, his hood up and able to muffle his words, so long as he kept his voice quiet.
"Good news first, please." Shaun answered, voice clipped and mildly annoyed.
"I've recovered The Apple, and I should be able to meet you at the rendezvous point in three days." Desmond answered quickly.
"Let me guess, the bad news is that you managed to trip the alarm and you're being chased by Templars. Do you need immediate evacuation?" Shaun teased, sounding equal parts annoyed and concerned.
"... No, there's an ally of mine I should be able to request some help from." Desmond answered, edging into the middle of the group of people as he saw a half-dozen templars disguised as bounty hunters - or hell. They could have cover stories as bounty hunters. They weren't Mandalorian, as the fiercely independent nature of all of the factions did not mesh well with the Templar dogma.
"... There aren't any Siblings on Concorde Dawn. Otherwise we would have asked one of them to run the mission with you, Desmond." Rebecca piped up, a note of confusion in her voice.
"He's... He's a local." Desmond admitted, tempted to end the call so as to avoid the inevitable Yelling that admitting that would cause.
"Why do you know a mando well enough to call him an ally, Desmond?" Shaun demanded.
"Because I met him on Korda 6 a while back, and rescued him from being killed by a double crossing asshole. It was back when we'd first landed here and were disconnected from the current Siblings and unsure where one another were." Desmond responds, referring to when the three of them had been forcibly yote into the future hundreds of thousands of years later, due to Desmond channeling the power of the solar flares from destroying much of Earth. "I gotta go. Assholes inbound."
"Stay alive, Des!" Rebecca answered before Desmond ended the call. As he wove his way through the streets doing his best to shake off his Templar tales, his mind began to wander.
Desmond had only been somewhat surprised to find out that the Assassins' Brotherhood had continued to exist - though the organization had changed and shifted some, throughout the millenia. After passing the tests, the three of them had been accepted into the organization once again. Hed very nearly landed on top of Jaster, and knocked the man out of the way of the shot that would have killed his life. He'd been Bleeding heavily at the time, and Ezio had no mercy for the traitor before them.
Jaster had been grateful for the help, curious about the strange blades he wore, even if Jango - Jaster's son - had been a suspicious asshole. To be fair, apparently the blue fucker had been Jaster's second in command and a friend of sorts for a while, and Desmond was a very strange stranger... It had taken Desmond months to track down The Brotherhood, and in that time he'd... grown closer to Jaster, and into his bed.
The older man very much enjoyed spoiling him with gifts, when the two of them crossed paths, a fact which never failed to fluster Desmond immensely. He got on decently enough with Jango, who, last he had heard, was preparing for a mission to Galidran to complete his first big team contract for the haat'ade.
He paused as he reached the nearest spaceport and activated his second sight, walls and other unimportant objects and items turning mostly transparent in his Sight as he searched for - ah! There he was. Wreathed in a blue and gold aura was his... Was Jaster, speaking to several people who were a mix of grey and blue. Desmond switched off his second sight, Jaster still marked in his view as he made his way though the busy space port.
Desmond dodged behind a wall just in time as several blaster bolts tried to take his legs out. One of the Templar hunters called out "Come on out with your hands over your head and no one needs to get hurt. Return what you stole and we might even offer you employment. You're a hell of a thief, and we could use someone who's good at sneaking around."
"No thanks, I enjoy my freedom." Desmond called back before sprinting away as silently as possible, as the spaceport's live fire alarms started to sound.
~
Desmond managed to keep ahead of both the space port's security people and the Templars chasing him until he was pretty sure the two groups ran into each other, from the amount of shooting and shouting he was leaving behind. He used one hand to bank around a blind corner and skidded to a halt as he sees Jaster talking to some of his people, helmet in hand. A couple of the people listening to Jaster - who was speaking in his native tongue, a language that the dimensionally displaced assassin was struggling to learn, along with the other trade languages that were the most commonly used. Thankfully, he’d been assumed to be from wildspace (whatever that was) and had been given a pass on not knowing the known trade languages.
Jaster finished his speech a couple of minutes later, and spent some time talking to his people, as he made his way over to where Desmond was standing, a warm smile appearing on his face. “Good afternoon, Desmond.”
“Good afternoon, Jaster.” Desmond greeted, smiling despite himself. He hesitated a moment before pulling down the hood of his jacket. “How are you?”
“I am doing well, you seem a bit… harried? I hadn’t expected to see you in Concordia. What brings you here?” Jaster asks curiously, one arm wrapping around his shoulders.
“Work. A client of mine asked for me to pick something up for them, and drop it off in Kalevala in a few days.” Desmond answered easily enough. He was planning on taking the public transport ship from Concorde Dawn to Kalevala - as he didn’t have all of the training that was needed to pilot his own ship, and it was easy to hide among the crowds there.
Jaster hummed and guided Desmond up into his ship, cupping the assassin’s chin and asking “Do you have a ride there? I wouldn’t mind dropping you off there, if you’d like.”
Desmond felt his face warm and he pressed a kiss to the other’s fingertips “A ride would be wonderful, Jaster.” The Apple was safely hidden in his bag, and he trusted that Jaster wouldn’t snoop through his stuff.
“Wonderful, cy’are.” Jaster murmured, a pleased purr in his voice as he leaned in close, giving Desmond a kiss on the lips. “I have a gift for you, dear. Come with me to my room, and I’ll show it to you.”
There was something about Jaster’s voice that did things to Desmond. He nodded, hoping that he wasn’t blushing as obviously as his cheeks were burning.