asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.

Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.

There are no request in this part of the meme.

List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Discussion

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course I'm still writing my faithful anons. I wouldn't forget you, just been working on about 6-7 other large fills as well XP
--

So then it was just him and Ezio upstairs and Malik was only slightly buzzed, he’d been very well behaved during the party and that last half hour. “What a mess,” he sighed looking at what had become of his home.

“You can clean it tomorrow,” Ezio said, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. He was drunk, not really drunk, but a good amount drunk. Not too drunk to function at the very least.

“I thought you were staying to help me,” Malik said.

Ezio snorted, “Right.”

“Not like your own apartment isn’t spotless,” Malik rolled his eyes.

“It is. But you’re not cleaning tonight,” Ezio said.

“Really? Why’s that?” and he grinned slightly, curious about what sort of thing would honestly keep Malik from cleaning the entire place up.

“I have a much better way to waste time,” Ezio said into his ear and kissed the back of his neck making Malik shiver. He was startled when Ezio tightened his grip around his waist and dragged him towards his room.

“Ezio,” he said when Ezio gently pushed him into the bedroom and shut the door, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,” he said.

“You are.”

“Okay, maybe,” he grinned wolfishly and pushed Malik onto the bed and kissed him, “That a problem?”

“Sort of, yes… maybe,” Malik managed to say and caught hold of one of Ezio’s hands. “It depends on what you’re planning on doing,” he said truthfully since he had certain rules for himself so that he didn’t do something he’d end up regretting when he was drunk. One of those things was having sex with drunk people, or when he was drunk.

“And what do you think I plan on doing?” Ezio said still grinning and Malik flushed, but only just. That was the same look he got when he knew he was getting laid that night. Malik knew it very well but it was the first time he’d ever seen it directed at him.

“No,” he said. Damnit Ezio why did you have to be drunk? The man didn’t know the definition of the word sobriety so Malik didn’t know why he was surprised. Well he wasn’t surprised about the drunk part, he was surprised about the horny part.

“What? Why?” he felt only a little bad when Ezio’s brows dropped, he looked very disappointed.

“I don’t have sex with drunk people,” he said deadpanned.

“I’m not drunk,” Ezio said trying to look sober and Malik chuckled.

“Yes you are Ezio.”

“Damn,” he muttered then something went off in his head as he brightened considerably. “You just said sex,” and Malik gave a yelp of surprise when before he had any say in the matter Ezio had undone his belt and almost as if to stop any protest Ezio kissed him as his hand slid down the inside of his pants.

Malik’s heart jumped practically out of his chest and he had to let go of Ezio’s other hand so he wasn’t pushed over by Ezio’s enthusiasm. “Well that was… unexpected,” he admitted having slight difficulty stringing words together with Ezio’s hand down his pants. Ezio just grinned at him a bit drunkenly and kissed him again. He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself and it took him about an entire half a minute to realize maybe something wasn’t quite right. Sure he was glad this happened, he’d been waiting for this for a long time. Just one problem; he wasn’t getting hard. At all really, though Ezio seemed too out of it to notice. Maybe it was the situation but he wasn’t into it and if anything this eagerness was almost a turn off. This wasn’t the Ezio he knew, since he knew everything about Ezio’s past sex life (that sort of accidentally happens when you’re friends with someone for twenty years after all) and it was more like he was trying to make a point than anything. Everything about this made him unsettled even if he tried not to be.

He really didn’t want to be either. He wanted to enjoy this, especially since Ezio wasn’t bad at this. Finally something he wasn’t awkward at in this relationship about since it seemed like sometimes it was all just one giant awkward moment. Malik grunted when Ezio pulled one leg around his waist and used his other hand to actually undo his pants since all he’d managed was the belt. Ezio was muttering to himself in Italian, yet another language he couldn’t speak. Damnit why was he always interested in bilingual guys? The distracted thought made him gasp as his body reacted properly, finally, to the attention. Why it took this long or what had even turned him on was a bit of a mystery though and he continued to have trouble maintaining it. This wasn’t good at all.

He’d gotten off when he was being distracted though. Maybe he was just thinking too much about this. If that was so he had no trouble not thinking about much even with Ezio trying to pull his attention to certain areas with his lips on skin. It seemed to work too as his mind drifted off to think about other things it was easier to just sink into it.

His jaw clenched as unbidden amber eyes swam up to his mind’s eye. He should be thinking about nothing not- not THAT! He let out a slow deep breath and tried to think of nothing, just absolutely nothing except for what he was feeling and not anything else. His brain however had other ideas though and knew what it liked. And that included a certain pair of amber eyes and a smirk that made him want to punch it’s owner in the face while his stomach did a fumbled summersault. It was fearlessness and an adrenaline junkie and someone who didn’t give shit about rules or ‘playing fair’ or even bothering to do anything that couldn’t be fun in some way.

Malik felt heat rise up into his cheeks as he actually started to get turned on, but for all the wrong reasons that made him almost ill. He cursed in his head and forced his eyes open so he couldn’t keep pretending. There was Ezio and all he felt was… was disappointed. “Stop,” he groaned.

“Yeah, right,” Ezio smirked and nuzzled his neck.

“I said stop,” Malik said sharpening his voice. Then his temper wound up, “Ezio I said stop,” he snapped. Only then did Ezio actually take him seriously and he sat back, removing his hand from his pants. Malik looked at him and just wanted to beat himself in the face. Ezio was a bit drunk but not unattractive at all, he would never be unattractive but this… he didn’t want this. Damnit he was so stupid. “This isn’t working,” he said and pulled his leg off Ezio’s hip and moving away from him.

“What?” he asked, brow furrowing as Malik zipped up his pants feelings his erection, which really hadn’t even been there at all anyway, limpening. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean we aren’t working,” Malik said standing up just so he wasn’t on the same eye level as Ezio.

“I… I don’t get it. How are we not?” Ezio asked looking up at him with that miserably confused look on his face and Malik knew he wasn’t as drunk as he’d probably been acting, if only because he liked acting that way since it meant he wasn’t as responsible for his actions if he was drunk.

“Exactly what you think,” Malik said not even knowing how to say what he was feeling. How the hell was he supposed to confess to all the stuff that had really been going on in his head? “I mean that…that—” He took a deep breath before saying. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“WHAT!?” Ezio jumped off the bed. “Why?” he asked moving over to him and grabbing him by the right shoulder, his left hand almost seemed to want to go for his left shoulder but he hesitated. Ezio was afraid to offend him because of his arm, or his lack of arm. He had to refrain from snarling since that was pity, and Malik hated pity. “Was it because of that? If so I’m sorry. I didn’t-

“No, that isn’t it,” Malik said shaking his head. “I just—” he shrugged, “I guess I didn’t like you as much as I thought I did,” he gave a strained smile, not at all pleased by his own words.

“Was it something I did?”

“No.”

“Then what?” Ezio sounded annoyed and… was he desperate? He sounded desperate though Malik didn’t know why, like he didn’t want this to end. The idea was almost funny since he’d never seen Ezio desperate over a girl. He didn’t do desperate and the whole ordeal was starting to leave a terrible taste in his mouth since Ezio wasn’t acting like himself.

“It’s me all right? Just…” he sighed and rubbed his face miserably. “Look, why don’t you go home.”

“Not till you tell me why,” Ezio demanded.

“It doesn’t matter-

“Yes it does!” Ezio yelled. “You can’t just drop me like this-

“Why not?” Malik snapped right back, “You do it all the time. And I know you do so don’t try to pull that high and mighty shit on me,” and he waved his finger in Ezio’s face, pushing off the hand on his arm angrily. “Hell I’m surprised you stayed interested for so long since since I’ve lost count of the number of girls who didn’t last this long.”

“Malik I’ve been interested for twe-

“Shut up!” Malik snapped since he knew Ezio was going to say something stupid. “Do not even think about saying that to me or I swear to God Ezio I will seriously punch you in your face,” Ezio attempted to speak but Malik talked right over him. “Don’t even pretend you liked me all along because you don’t know anything,” he poked Ezio in the chest. “I have had a crush on you since middle school so the fact that I’m even telling you ‘no’ shouldn’t even be happening,” he didn’t even know what he was angry at anymore really, he was just angry. Angry at everything, at Ezio, at himself, at Altair, at this situation, at his life, all of it, this terrible relationship and now the entire thing was spiraling out of his control and getting worse at every word that was coming out of his mouth.

“Then why are you-

“Because I’m over you!” he practically yelled. “I’m tired of waiting for you to notice me when other people have you insufferable ass.”

“But I did-

“Yeah after fucking practically every girl in Boston,” he glared and Ezio had at least the small amount of self respect to blush. “Just… leave, okay?” he sighed his entire body deflating.

“So you didn’t like what we just did?” Ezio however wasn’t going over that easy. “Because it sure seemed like-

“Only because I wasn’t thinking about you!” the words were angry and loud and out of his mouth before he had time to rationalize them. The stunned look on Ezio’s face was almost heart breaking, almost, if only because he’d never seen Ezio so confused in his life. He simply couldn’t believe that someone wouldn’t be attracted to him. “Go,” he ordered. Ezio’s mouth opened slightly though he seemed too shocked to say anything. “I said go!” Malik snarled.

Stiffly Ezio turned and Malik watched him open the bedroom door, but he didn’t close it. Malik stayed where he was and heard the front door open, close, and lock automatically behind his… what? His friend? Doubtful after that. How had this all gone wrong? It actually took a few moments for it to sink in actually and he felt himself sag back onto his bed his entire body numb and shallow and he felt ill and just…

He lifted his hand to his face and pressed it over his eyes, leaning over his legs miserably. Why did this always happen to him? Why? He’d never had someone who he could rely on, just a string of boyfriends who all somehow ended up not working out whither it was because they died or because they had to break it off, or had to keep it a secret or because they left. His hand moved up and grabbed his hair. All his relationships ended with him being left behind with a broken heart, or even sometimes with one so mutilated that he found it hard to cope.

He sucked in a shaky, ragged, breath and tried to forget this had happened. He didn’t want it to have been real. Anything for all this not to be real because he couldn’t swallow the ache in his chest anymore. He thumped back in his bed, arm falling off the side and he stared at the ceiling till he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Warily he sat up and dug it out, it was a reminder, in case he fell asleep, to clean up the damn house after the party. He sighed and turned the phone over in his hand a few times wondering why that had happened and what really was the point of it all.
--
Well... now we know what happened huh?
Honestly, you didn't think that relationship would last did you? Probably didn't think it'd blow up so spectacularly either though 8D Malik really needs him some Altair.

—

It was a bit after midnight as Altair pulled on the last parts of his costume. He had a job to do and a party to attend which was why he was wearing this semi ridiculous outfit. Of all the weird holidays Westerners practiced Altair was sure Halloween was one of the oddest. He understood the purpose but still thought it was strange, there was nothing even akin to it in Syria. But it allowed for a very unique experience, because today everyone wore a mask and he was surprised more hits weren't executed during this holiday since it was the perfect way to hide because once you were in a costume you were anonymous and invisible. Which of course his purpose, to do this unseen.

He didn’t really care either way for the job or the holiday or anything like that. He was just insanely happy about the day and the place. He even hummed a little, grinning dumbly to himself his mind on something far more pleasant than his job or anything else that had happened in the past few months.

He looked up when the door opened, his brows going up when he saw it was Ezio. He was staying with his cousin since unlike his uncle or even his older cousin Ezio was rather expendable and if he did do something as stupid as getting caught it would likely only be traced only so far as Ezio. Not to mention none of the rest of his family knew he was even in the country. Ezio had this annoyed look on his face along with the slightly out of focus of alcohol. Altair wrinkled his nose at Ezio.

“You’re back. You said you wouldn’t be back till morning,” he said double checking the clip in his hand gun before sliding it home with a snap and spinning the silencer onto the muzzle, putting the entire thing into a special holster under the loose fitting of his costume.

“So did I,” Ezio growled.

“What happened? You get denied at that party?” Altair couldn’t help but sneer, sometimes his cousin was a bit too cocky and a bit too loose. Ezio just glared at him. “Did you have a good time anyway?” Altair sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. Ezio just glared at him darkly, “… Did I do something wrong?” he asked. What was with Ezio? He usually wasn’t this moody.

“When do you leave?” Ezio ignored his question totally.

“Leave?”

“The country,” Ezio growled out. Well, someone was testy tonight.

“I just got in this morning,” Altair said raising both brows at him with a chuckle, “So eager to see me gone?” he smirked and ignored the glare so go over to his duffle and pulled out a knife. He checked the edge against his thumb before shoving it into his boot. “I’m not sure, we’ll see how tomorrow goes,” he couldn’t, nor did he bother to fight the grin that spread across his face.

“Why? What happens tomorrow?” Ezio asked sounding anxious about the answer, Altair’s face fell with annoyance.

“I was going to bother Malik,” oh, bother and then some. Along with beg for forgiveness for being the biggest flake in history and pray Malik forgave him. He watched with reserved interest at the subtle shift in Ezio’s face. “Now what is it?” he sighed dramatically growing more annoyed by Ezio’s depressing mood by the second.

“I don’t want you to,” Ezio said tightly.

Altair rolled his eyes, “Yes yes, I remember you telling me I was a terrible influence on your poor friend Malik. But it’s been a while,” he smiled only a bit.

“I don’t want you going near him,” Ezio said in a firmer tone.

Altair snorted, “Since when do you get to decide?” Altair asked dropping his duffle back to the floor before going to stand in front of his cousin.

“Since he’s my boyfriend.”

Altair blinked at him and turned his head away. Then before he could refrain he turned back around and nailed Ezio so hard in the face the other man fell over. He'd been so surprised he hadn't even cried out till he reached up grabbing his bloody nose. Altair stood over him and pressed his foot to his chest making him wheeze. He leaned down resting him arms on a slightly bent knee and now it was he who was glaring.

"The hell is wrong with you?!" Ezio yelled blood dripping from his nose.

"Does nothing satisfy you little cousin?" Altair growled, looming over his like a dark thundercloud of rage.

"I have no idea what you're talking about you crazy bastard," and he spat a little blood onto the tile floor next to him.

"You prefer women over men, you have no reason to date Malik."

"Shows how much you know," Ezio snarled before groaning when Altair put more weight on his chest.

"I know you very well," Altair hissed, "You'd only date a guy if you knew it got you something. What's this then? Another attempt to piss me off? Because trust me, it's working," he ground out from between his bared teeth. "Or maybe another way you can mimic me since you always do."

"Go fuck yourself Altair," Ezio snapped.

Altair was silent for a few seconds before his amber eyes narrowed. “So that’s it then,” he said his voice suddenly calm and only then did Ezio’s eyes widen with fear. “I told you how I felt so you’d stop fucking asking me about it and this is what you do with that information you worthless. Sack. Of. Shit,” at each of those words he ground his heel into Ezio’s gut, twisting his ankle and making Ezio give a bark of pain.

Since before he could really remember Ezio had always tried to be like him. They were only a few months apart in age but Altair was always more mature and of the two always got the attention because unlike Ezio he actually had a purpose in the family. Whenever their families met he and Ezio would hang out and usually got along very well, sometimes acting more like brothers than not, except when Ezio did something stupid like try to copy him a bit too personally and piss him off. He knew Ezio was perpetually jealous of him because of their status differences in the family. Federico was the eldest of them all and heir to Giovanni’s position and all his connections (which were vast), Claudia was the only girl in the family and though was already proving to be extremely business savvy. Petruccio was sick a lot, almost perpetually so, but he was strong and clearly had a sharp mind if those art drawings Altair had seen up on the ten year old’s walls were any indication. Even Desmond, their other cousin, was more useful than Ezio, and was the only one of them with a Masters, a Masters in fucking physics for goodness sake, even if he preferred to be a bartender simply out of choice and enjoyment. Altair of course worked for the real family business with his own father. Ezio was the awkward middle child who’d never really amounted to anything and no one knew really what to do with and when they’d been younger Ezio had practically worshiped Altair and wished he could be as cool. Of course he was the biggest copy cat Altair had ever seen and despite the fact that they got along well he knew that Ezio was insanely petty and jealous and shallow and this just proved it further.

“Not like it wasn’t easy,” Ezio was finally able to growl out when Altair eased up on the pressure. “He never talked about you. Maybe one, maybe,” he sneered up at him, mocking him since he knew there was nothing else he could do except this since he couldn’t hurt Altair physically. Altair only blinked at him but otherwise didn’t react to that statement, his face already a blank mask of anger. “And I know you two never did it. Too bad, cause he makes the cutest little noises and-” he didn’t continue as Altair pushed down on his chest again and he heard Ezio’s ribs protest under the sudden pressure from his boot.

“Shut up,” Altair hissed.

“What? Pissed I got to fuck Malik and you didn’t?” Ezio snickered and Altair wanted to turn Ezio’s face into a bloody mess.

“Ezio, you say one more word and I’m going to-

To what?" Ezio jeered, "you can't do anything to me."

Altair was about to say something else when suddenly Ezio's phone went off. Before Ezio could get it Altair snatched it out of his pocket. "Oh look, its from Malik," he said and he saw a not so cocky look in Ezio's eyes. "Lets see what he has to say," and he opened the text as Ezio, with a sudden surge of energy, tried to get to his feet. Almost lazily Altair kicked him in the gut and he went back down, "Try again next time little cousin," Altair told him before looking at the text. "Oh my Ezio, it appears that you're full of shit," he smirked now feeling a lot better. "It appears that you got dumped, unless I'm not fully aware of all of English's complexities. Though I'm fairy certain that that's what 'I'm sorry it had to end that's way' means. Am I right?" the look on Ezio's face was all he needed. "And I highly doubt you'd have the balls to have sex with Malik. Such a liar," he tufted and looked down at Ezio who was still on the floor though now sitting up.

"Go to hell Altair," Ezio growled.

"I most surely will. But that's for another time." He looked away from Ezio and flipped open the phone using the pad to send a message back, 'Are you home?'

Ezio just watched him and they waited in silence till again Ezio's phone sounded. Altair grinned at the scathing anger he could feel through the phone, Ezio must have pissed Malik off. 'Of course I am you fucking idiotic bastard where else would I be?'

"I hope you remember all the numbers in your contacts Ezio," Altair then declared and deleted them, all of them. "And text messages," and deleted those too. Ezio just glared knowing there was no way he could actually stop Altair, he was too strong. "Now than," he tossed the now empty phone into Ezio's lap before grabbing Ezio by the hair and made him look up. "I think it's you who will be staying away from Malik if you value your friendship with him, which appears to mean little if you would use him like that just to once again be a petty copycat," Ezio just continued to glare silently. "Nothing to say? Well that is a first," and he let Ezio go.

“Big talk for a guy he never talked about, all while you were go-” Altair kicked him again to shut him up.

“Have I told you that you talk to much Ezio?” Altair growled at him, “Because really you do. You have a big mouth, and that is what separates us. Because while you will sit here and talk. I will go out and do. And that,” he tapped Ezio on the chest with his boot, “is why Federico and I are the favored sons and you are not. Now excuse me, I have work to do and can’t be here all night entertaining you. People to kill and all that,” he sneered at him before stepping over him like he was bag of trash on the curb and left his cousin’s apartment without a backwards glance.

Wow, I can't believe how fast Ezio turned out to be a total asshole.
But I like it :--D

—

It was about two am and Malik was still awake. He'd since cleaned up most of the mess but was restless and suddenly couldn't stand all the stuff he'd put up and had taken down half of his decorations. He wasn't just restless either, he was a bit pissed too. Ezio had sent him that stupid fucking text to his own and that had pissed him off. It was stupid but gave him a reason to feel something other than terrible or guilty. After that he'd put on Master of Puppets, because why the fuck not, and cleaned and thrown things away or into bins till he was finally where he was now; which sitting on the floor scowling at the jack-o-lantern and it in turn was scowling back at him. He wanted to throw it out the window just for the satisfaction of seeing it smash to pieces on the ground though he also wanted to keep it since he always kept his jack-o-lantern for at least a few days after his party just because.

He looked up curiously when someone knocked on his door. No way it was a trick or treater, way too late for that, and it wasn't Kadar since he was probably out like a light. For about a millisecond he thought it was Ezio but then knew it wasn't, no way he'd come back after what Malik had said. There was more knocking, this time a lot more persistent and he figured to just go see. It was late so whoever it was had better have a good reason.

He opened the door and took a small, involuntary, step back. He didn't recognized them and they were still in costume. Some white robe-like getup with a hood and red sash around their waist. It was actually a pretty nice looking costume. "Uhm, can I help you?" he asked looking at them curiously. They had one hand on their flank and was leaning against the side of the wall, head down so Malik couldn’t see their face thanks to the strangely beaked hood.

"Uhm, help?" and the man moved his hand and Malik saw he was bleeding, it looked like he'd been shot! Malik didn't quite know what to do then the man looked up and his eyes widened. Though his eyes were a bit shadowed he knew he would recognize that face anywhere, Altair. He swallowed down something cumbersome that was suddenly in his throat and tried to remember how to speak. Why was he here? Why after all this time was he suddenly here, now? It wasn’t fair.

Then his brain caught up with what he was seeing. Regardless of who it was there was someone /bleeding/ at his front door. "Oh fuck," was the first intelligent thing he said. "Come in," he said quickly after and practically dragged Altair inside checking down the hall for pursuers without thinking. He dragged Altair over to the kitchen table and shoved him into a chair. "What happened?"

"I got shot at," he said somehow able to be sarcastic through gritted teeth.

"I'll call an ambulance," Malik said reaching for his phone.

"No," Altair grabbed his arm to stop of him.

"Altair you're hurt and need to go to the hospital."

"No, I can't. Please, Malik," and he looked up at him pleadingly, his eyes were pained but firm in that Malik couldn’t do that.

Malik muttered a curse, "Fine," and he shrugged off Altair's hand before going into the bathroom and pulled out the first aide kit. Malik kept a kit that was an almost exact copy of a Marine corpsman kit except for some of the drugs that weren’t given out to regular civilians. He also grabbed a bottle of pills from the vanity and went back out to the kitchen. Altair was leaning his head against the table looking very dead, his forehead against his arm, entire body curled up around the bloody stain on his side.

"Hey!" Malik shook him.

He stirred and looked up, "I'm not dead yet, no need to yell," he groaned.

"You need to get out of these clothes so I can see where you're hurt," he said now incredibly grateful Sam had basically forced him learn all the important stuff he needed to know about giving someone medical help. Then it had been an excuse for them to spend more time together as well as basically turn Malik into a competent set of hands to help Sam when someone got hurt who wouldn’t panic under pressure like some people would. Altair nodded mutely and with Malik's help they got him out of that costume so he was naked from the waist up though Malik barely noticed. "Hold this here," Malik said pressing Altair's hand against a thick pad of gauze over his wound. He checked for an exit wound, there was none. "Where's the bullet?" he asked.

"I dug it out," Altair said softly. Malik winced, he knew that hurt, a lot. He picked up the bottle of pills and handed him two. "What's that?"

"Vicodin, it'll ease the pain," Malik said.

"How the hell do you have Vicodin?" Altair grumbled but took the pills, swallowing them dry.

"My arm still hurts sometimes," he said and was actually relieved Altair couldn't shut up, it meant he was awake. He fished around in his kit and pulled out the alcohol, removing Altair's hand and pouring it down his flank. Altair gave a sharp cry of pain and surprise as Malik cleaned the wound before putting fresh gauze over it and the other man applied pressure while Malik went back into the kitchen washing his hand and grabbed a lighter. "Okay, let me see," he said in a soft voice and Altair removed his hand and gauze, though did so slower, the pain meds were working. Gently he inspected the wound, which continued to leak blood, and was satisfied it wasn't dirty. He rapidly dug a needle and some thread from his kit and saw Altair eyeing it warily. "Its the needle or cauterize it," Malik said.

"Needle," Altair grumbled after muttering curses in Arabic to himself and Malik made him hold the needle with the hand not applying pressure to his wound as he threaded it on the second try. Malik lit the lighter and held it under the needle for a few seconds. "Okay, move your hand," Altair did and hissed when Malik made the first pass through his skin. After that though he didn't make a sound and when Malik looked up his jaw was clenched. He finished as quickly as he could, tying the thread off when he was done. He rubbed Neosporan gently on the new stitches to keep them clean before bandaging them up. "Okay, all done."

Altair gave a relieved sigh and sat back in the chair slouching, eyes half lidded in probably exhaustion and the meds. He muttered to himself in Arabic but Malik didn't understand most of it. Finally he looked up at Malik through his lashes looking a bit stoned, "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome, not like I could just leaving to bleed out," Malik said. "What happened?" now that's he wasn't afraid Altair was going to keel over and die in his kitchen he wanted to know.

"I did something stupid on a job. Did the job, some security managed to get a shot off before I could get away, got me," he patted his flank gently but still winced when he did so.

"Why would someone shoot you? What were you doing?"

Altair's eyes were a bit glassy from the Vicodin and it was obvious he'd never been on this sort of pain meds for it to be effecting him this way. "My job," he said.

"And what is it you do?" he asked though almost regretted asking.

Can I like... not care about anoning anymore? Cool, thanks.
--

"Remember when we went to that art museum?" he asked and Malik nodded, "You said you were just going to assume I did something shady since I didn't tell you what I did," Malik didn't but it sounded like something he would say. All he could remember about that was Altair being annoying and being a tour guide in another language with the English subtitles turned off and kissing him in the rain, and the freak out on his part after of course. He nodded anyways. "Well... you were right," he said reaching into a fold of the pants of the costume and pulled out a handgun with a silencer on it. Malik's eyes widened at seeing it. But that wasn't all, he then reached further down and seemed to grab something from around his feet. A second later he tossed a bloodied knife onto the table. Malik stared at it. "I kill people."

Malik's eyes went from the knife and gun on the table to the shirtless man sitting at his kitchen table. At the moment he didn't look capable of walking a strait line let alone killing anyone. "Very funny Altair," he said with a strained smile.

"It'd be more funny if I was joking," he croaked.

"You could have lied," he said.

"I would never lie to you," and Malik looked into those amber eyes of him and knew he was telling the truth. "Others maybe, but not you," his lips worked their way into a tired grin. Malik felt himself flush and hated himself for it. He didn’t want to feel this way, especially not… not about a fucking murderer! He immediately thought wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black since what had he used to do? He’d killed people, it had been his job and he’d been deceptively good at it till he’d lost his arm. It still didn’t make him get goosebumps any less.

"Why did you come here Altair?" he asked thinking that it now made sense that he didn't want to go to a hospital, though why him of all people? Why not his family? Anyone but him really.

"You're the only person I know who lives on this side of the river," he said, "and," he added with a groan as he tried to find a more comfortable position on the chair, "if I was going to die of a gunshot wound I'd rather see you then my pig headed cousin I was staying with.”

"Well there will be no dying on my watch got it?" Malik growled almost teasingly. Why was he doing this?

He smirked, "Yes sir Gunnery Sergeant," he chuckled and gave an imitation of a salute, his hand and arm sloppy and uncoordinated.

Malik sighed but didn't exactly find anything amusing about the situation. "Who did you kill Altair?" he asked almost afraid to ask.

"You'll probably hear about it tomorrow on the news. I can't even remember anyway. The name isn't important," he said at the end like an after thought.

"Why did you then?"

"I was told to. Just a job," he shrugged.

"So what are you? A mercenary?"

Altair snorted, "Something that- I think you'd use the term- 'bush league'? No I'm not," he blinked at Malik and with a totally serious tone and face said, "I'm an assassin."

"No way, I don't believe you."

"I'm serious," Altair said and with those words Malik knew he was telling the truth because every time he said he was serious he always was, even about that last thing he'd promised Malik all those months ago. Here he was, sure he was all fucked up as well as high, but Altair had promised he'd come back... and he had. Malik wasn't even sure how he felt about that either. "Hey Malik?" he asked when nothing had been said for a while as Malik tried to just soak in what Altair had just said.

"What?"

"Do you hate me? I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"I don't hate you, what gave you that idea?" He wanted to though, he felt like he should, but he didn’t. He should be angry at him for being the biggest flake ever but somehow after what had happened with Ezio he couldn’t muster the emotion to be angry at anyone at the moment.

"Nothing," he muttered before asking, "Can I stay here?"

"Like I'd let you leave like that," Malik said smartly and got to his feet suddenly feeling bone tired. "You can sleep on the couch," and he helped the syrian stand. He'd lost a good amount of blood and was weak, Malik realized the Vicodin might have been a bad choice. There was less blood in Altair's blood stream to dilute the effects of the medication, no wonder he was so stoned. Altair sank onto the couch when Malik let him go and he went to get some spare blankets and pillows. Altair wasn't exactly the first person to crash on his couch and he doubted he'd be the last. Altair was practically asleep anyways as Malik shoved the bedding at him and he made something like a nest on the couch. He was asleep in seconds.

Malik looked over at the table where the gun and knife were. He walked over to them and picked up the gun and ejected the clip, five shots had been fired and obviously the knife had been used. He clicked on the safety (fuck it had been off this entire time?!) and put the clip, the gun and the knife in the bloodied robes of Altair's costume and bundled it up before depositing it next to the couch. He looked down at Altair before deciding to put the bottle of Vicodin on the coffee table as well before leaving and going back into his room, locking the door as he did so and got ready for bed. The clock said it was fifteen minutes to three so no wonder he was exhausted. He fell into bed trying to get the image of Altair's peacefully sleeping face off his mind. It was very, very, hard.

YES!!! I am so excited to see this updated! I'm so glad that Altair was thrown back into the mix, and also a little surprised at how much of an asshole Ezio is. I love it.

Man, for people champing at the bit for Altair to come back you're oftly quiet now that he is...
Also, back to my favorite! TEXT MESSAGES!!
—

Malik reached over and slapped his hand down on his alarm to make it sleep feeling exhausted. He blinked around and sat up very sure that everything that had happened after Ezio had left had just been a dream. A terrible and wonderful dream. Then he heard a rather quiet knock on his door that was very insitant. He rolled out of bed, mussing his fingers through his bed head and opened the door groggily. Kadar was home early it seemed. "Uhm... Malik. I don't mean to alarm you but I think someone's sleeping on the couch."

"Okay," Malik nodded slowly, well that coincided with his dream at least.

"And uh... I think its Altair. You know anything about that?"

Malik blinked, practically startled, he hadn't dreampt that up. He didn't know what was scarier either. "Yeah, I know," he said eventually

"Okay... well that's... Good,” Kadar said awkwardly. “Can I ask why he's there?"

"No."

"But Malik what if-

"Kadar," Malik snapped, "I said no. Just leave him alone," he said using his authoritative tone that he'd honed as a Marine. It was the tone he took when something stupid was going on and people were being idiotoc. On tour he used it on little buck privates who didn't know their heads from their asses. Kadar knew the tone and since he'd gone through the same training as Malik he knew what it meant. Even after all his time as a civilian there was only one responded for such a tone.

"Yes, sir," he said and left without another backwards word.

—

Sometime before noon Malik was startled out of his distant staring at his work computer when his phone went off. He normally didn’t get calls or messages while he was working since people knew better than to bother him so he raised his brow at it for a moment before snatching it up. It was from Kadar, which was even odder since Kadar definitely knew not to text him at work. He slid his thumb across the screen and opened the message.

‘Thanks for leaving the Vicodin for me,’ it read.

Malik blinked several times before he typed back, ‘Altair?’ How had he gotten Kadar’s phone? What was he even doing away? It was only eleven and after two Vicodin and a fucking gun shot you’d think he’d be a lot worse for wear, especially at this hour. And since the text led him to believe he’d taken more how was he, who got loopy on just two pills, functioning properly on enough pills to dull the pain?

“Yeah, just me. I asked your brother if I could use his phone,’ Altair texted back, drawing Malik out of his pensive state.

‘Oh.’ So intelectual, he knew.

‘Thanks again… for last night I mean,’ if a text message could be sheepish than this one was.

Malik’s face worked through a few emotions as he typed out a reply, ‘I’ll admit I don’t normally get people showing up at my door with gunshot wounds.’

‘I’d hope not.’

Then finally he can’t not ask anymore because it is gnawing at him. ‘How are you feeling?’ Why did he care? Malik didn’t want to care. God did he not want to care, but he did, his own empathy turning his stomach into a knot of worry at the idea of Altair still hurt (and probably a bit stoned) in his apartment. That was really just what he needed wasn’t it?

‘Changed my bandages earlier, just a little blood. I’m fine, thanks to you.’

Malik grinned slightly, relieved he was fine and tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t want people to die in his apartment. He didn’t believe himself either and had to change the topic and not dwell on it. ‘Good. Where’s Kadar?’

‘His room. I bothered bothered him for his phone. Somehow it’s more confusing to use than yours, and it’s not even a smart phone.’

Smart ass. ‘Eat something,’ he texted back now that he knew his brother was home so that meant Altair wasn’t home by himself. Which really would have been just what he needed. Not really.

‘I didn’t know if I was allowed…’

‘Eat something or I’m coming home during lunch break and making you,’ Malik threatened, hoping his tone carried through the text.

‘You’d feed me? Oh, don’t tempt me Malik,’ and Malik just knew that look on his face. That damn little smirk of his that had more than once invaded his dreams. But it was the message itself along with that knowledge that made Malik flush slightly, damnit. ‘Is there anything I’m not allowed to have?’ came the question when he didn’t reply.

‘Alcohol.’

‘K.’

Malik put his phone down and rubbed his face. Fuck Altair was at his house! Altair was at his house and probably wandering around half naked and- He stopped that thought abruptly. He was not going to think about half naked or any other sort of naked or fuck even about Altair at all. Not thinking about him at all would be great actually. He let out a soft groan and leaned heavily on his arm, face in his hand. Still didn't mean Altair wasn't still at his place, wounded, probably high and shirtless. As if the day couldn't get any better.

His phone vibrated again since he'd turned off the volume during their conversation when Rauf had sent him a dirty look from over his partition still looking a bit hung over from Malik's party the night before. 'Where are my things?'

'Wrapped them up in the costume.'

'Good thinking. I guess I'm a bit to tired still to realize the obvious,' and Malik frowned. 'Can I borrow one of your shirts?' Malik flushed at the question and hated himself for it.

‘Sure,’ it takes him longer than probably necessary to write that reply.

‘It’s really cold in here,’ he can imagine the tone, complaining and Malik fights a grin, he loses and it spreads across his face. He’d forgotten Altair hated the cold.

‘Tell Kadar I said it was okay to turn up the heat,’ he typed.

‘Hurray!! :D’ Malik chuckled to himself. Altair and his fucking emoticons. He honestly didn’t know anyone else who used them; just him. It’s juvenile and a bit endearing. Malik finds himself sighing, wishing it wasn’t. He doesn’t want to want this.

“Malik,” Ugo called from in front of him, “Vidic on the prowl,” he warned and Malik shoved his phone out of the way. He couldn’t focus on his work now though, not that he could before, but it was harder now because his thoughts kept drifting back to what could potentially be happening back at his apartment. He muttered a curse and at least looked busy so when Vidic strolled by like a buzzard he didn't get a talking to.

He scanned the floor when his phone buzzed again, this was a phone call though. He grabbed the phone and stepped out of the floor. "Hello?" the caller ID said Kadar but he didn't know if it was Altair or his brother.

“Mal,” Kadar said on the other end almost sounding distracted.

“Hey, what’s up,” he said going into the break room.

“You said it was okay for him to wear some of your clothes?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. He’d definitely just said shirt, shit what if Altair had borrowed some pants too? He really didn’t want to think about that. Like really didn’t.

“Okay, just checking,” Damnit Kadar, more information! He wasn’t going to ask though, better not to know. “Also he says he wants to go out for lunch but he’s acting kinda weird-

“He’s on Vicodin, do not let him out of the house under any circumstances,” he said sternly, good distraction.

“Okay okay, I won’t… Stop that,” Kadar said to someone off mic though they were silent, he could only imagine Altair was making faces at hit brother.

“Order pizza or something. Just don’t let him wander, I don’t want to have to go looking around Cambridge for a high free runner with a gunshot wound,” no doubt Kadar knew about that since he’d probably seen Altair without his shirt. That wasn’t even half of it though. Not just what he’d said but a high, free runner with an adrenaline addiction and who could potentially kill you bare handed. Yeah, he really didn’t want to go looking for that in Cambridge.

“You and me both,” Kadar agreed with a sigh. “See you when you get home.”

“Yeah,” Malik nodded slowly to himself and hung up. His day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

You have no idea, you just made my day.
See who was 12 chapters to read ...
I love your story, like how it is told.
I love this paring and ...
I always try to leave a comment, but he deleted it
My native language is not English and I'm getting better ... but I think they do not like bugs ...
but still, congratulations on history!
I can add you as a friend?

Sure, don't really care. Don't do much here anyways.

—

Before the week is over Altair is already off the Vicodin and instead eats ibuprofen or Tylenol like it’s going out of style. Malik had to take away the stronger drug because of what it did to him. By then he'd decided he didn't like a high Altair either despite the fact that all he did was sit on the couch, sleep, watch TV and sometimes say he was hungry or cold. Malik didn't like it though because Altair was too still. Sure he'd seen Altair stand statue still before but this was different. It was like he didn't even have the energy to move and from what Malik remembered of him that was totally opposite of his normal mentality of staying still when he needed to but looked like he could jump up at any second and do a backflip or something like that.

The dirty costume had vanished one day while he'd been at work and he'd found ashes in the trash can later that night and he had no idea what had happened to the gun or knife. All he knew was that they weren't on Altair's person and that was good enough for him since he really didn't want some stoned assassin waving either of them around.

That was another thing Malik was coming to terms with. He knew Altair had told him the truth but it was still pretty unbelievable, Altair was an assassin. Just saying it sounded ridiculous. People didn't just go around saying they were assassins! Not only that but the idea was a bit preposterous, assassins were mainly people you read about in stories from before the twentieth century or played as in video games. He'd asked Altair after he'd stopped taking the prescription meds and was lucid and he'd given the same answer. It freaked him out a bit actually.

And of course like Altair had said news came out about the death of a local politician who'd been killed during a fundraiser for a project that wasn't all that's popular anyways. The police had no leads except for a five bullets they'd found on the crime scene that belonged to some unknown gunman. They were handmade bullets too and thus lacked a serial number which they could track. There were no prints, no hairs, no evidence of any kind save that a man in white with a hood had appeared from the crowd and cut the man's throat before anyone knew what had really happened. The news was freaking out about it and going on about how dangerous this man was and everyone should be careful.

Meanwhile Altair was asleep on his couch as he watched this news looking as innocent as a child. It was like he honestly didn’t care about what he had done. At first Malik had thought him heartless but then couldn’t bring himself to. He hadn’t ever felt bad when he’d shot someone, or killed someone. Still, that had been from a distance and— no, he was just trying to make himself into the better man. Really he wasn’t, they were both guilty of murderers and if Malik didn’t feel bad for who he killed then Altair deserved to not feel bad about his either.

On the Friday of the week Malik came home to an empty apartment. He knew Kadar had class but where the hell was Altair? Maybe he’d left since he was feeling better? Only that was a giant lie. The wound was still a bit inflamed and still full of stitches, it wouldn’t be fully healed for a few more weeks. It was so not a good idea for him to leave. Not to mention the police were technically looking for him even though they had no idea who he was. He had to remind himself not to worry and that it wasn’t his business before he started to panic. Altair could take care of himself besides and didn’t need someone like Malik to protect him. That thought might have stopped the panic but definitely not the worrying.

Relief flashed through him when Altair finally came back, opening the door without knocking, an hour or so later. Malik didn’t want to think about how he was able to do that since he didn’t have a key. He was carrying a duffle bag and looked freezing, shivering in a long sleeved shirt Malik had let him borrow for inside purposes. “Don’t you have a coat?” he demanded once he noticed.

“N-no,” Altair’s teeth actually chattered.

“Idiot,” and Malik pushed him onto the couch before going back to his room, to his own closet and pulled something out. When he came back to the living room Altair had buried himself in the blankets Malik had supplied. “For an assassin you certainly are terribly prepared,” he said sarcastically, draping the coat over the back of the sofa. “Wear this if you decide to go outside again, it’s getting colder out.”

“Thank,” Altair grumbled seeming unable to get under enough blankets. “Also, I have no idea how to handle really cold weather okay? I grew up in the damn desert, cut me some slack.”

“It snows in Syria sometimes,” Malik said smartly.

“Not where I live smart ass,” Altair growled.

“Fine,” Malik sigh. “Let me see your stitches,” he added, he wanted to make sure Altair hadn’t stretched his stitches by going outside and doing whatever it was he did. With great reservation Altair shrugged off the blankets, obvious he didn’t want to leave their warmth, and lifted up the thin sweatshirt revealing the bandages around the lower part of his chest. Malik leaned down and carefully peeled them back so he could see the stitches and was pleased by what he saw. “Looks good,” he said approvingly and nodded. “What’s in the bag?” he asked as Altair pulled his shirt back down.

“Gear, clothes, passports, money,” Altair said lowly as if not wanting him to hear.

“Passports?”

“Two of-

“Actually, no. I don’t want to know,” Malik held up his hand to stop Altair in whatever he was going to say next.

Altair looked up at him with a worried look and licked his lips. Malik’s eyes followed the quick flick of his tongue across his chapped lips before demanding he look away. He wasn’t doing this. “I expected you to turn me in,” Altair said after a short stretch of silence.

“You and me both,” Malik softly, almost to himself.

“Why haven't you?” Altair asked and Malik really didn’t want to answer that question since it meant having to really think about his reasoning. He didn’t want to know what he’d find in there. Altair seemed to sense this and reached out to grab his hand so he couldn’t escape the question.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I mean, I should, you killed someone Altair,” he said trying to sound like he wasn’t the one in the wrong here.

“He was a bad man,” Altair said firmly.

"Even if he was you cut his throat," he stressed and wasn’t really surprised to not see any guilt in his eyes, "Does that mean anything to you?"

"It’s a job Malik. Just like that boring one you have I have my own, only it isn't boring."

"So you don't care. You're in it for the money."

"I don't get paid for it," Altair said. "Look it is really complicated, more than I could ever really explain and even if I could I wouldn't want too."

"Why?"

"Because it would be better if you didn't know. I don't want you to get hurt because of what you might know," he gave Malik's hand a light squeeze. "Are you going to rat me out?"

"No," he sighed and slumped down onto the couch next to him almost unable to believe he really wasn't. He was ex-military and swore to defend the country yet here he was with a guy who’d killed a politician. But this was Altair and he just couldn't. He knew it was only because it was Altair too, anyone else he wouldn’t have had any issue with ratting out "Just don't say anything to my brother, he might."

"Thanks," and with that same fearlessness Malik remembered leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He looked over at Altair at that and he was smiling that smile that totally melted Malik's heart and made his insides fold in on themselves as they flopped around his gut. It was such a perfect smile and Malik wished he had a camera, or something. Then slowly Altair leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Malik was totally helpless to this and kissed him back for a few heartbeats. God it felt good. So good and right and amazing and perfect and didn’t want it to end.

Then his brain caught up with what he was going and he stilled. God what was he doing? He promised he wouldn’t do this to himself anymore. No more, yet… here he was. “No,” he said and pulled away, “I-I can’t do this,” his voice cracked as he spoke and scrambled to his feet.

“Wait,” Altair managed to grab him before he’d gotten to far. “I’m sorry.”

“Altair you just can’t do that,” he said trying to make Altair understand everything that was right and wrong with what had just happened.

“I know. I just… sorry,” he said again. “That wasn’t very fair,” he agreed still holding onto Malik’s hand so he couldn’t leave. Malik didn’t even know if he wanted to even if he knew he should. He didn’t want to want this even if he did. He couldn’t remember a time where recently he’d wanted something this badly. But he refused to be hurt again, especially after that thing with Ezio and he was pretty sure he’d wrecked every single part of that relationship. Because of that he was telling himself no. “Maybe we should start this over,” Altair said a bit awkwardly after pulling a face and shrugging to his feet.

Malik’s lip became a thin line. He shouldn’t he really really shoulder. “If you want,” he sad with half a sigh.

“Hi, I’m Altair Kassab, what’s your name?” he asked and Malik couldn’t help it; he laughed. From anyone else it would have been a terrible, terrible line but somehow totally worked for Altair despite it being corny.

“Malik Al-Sayf,” he said grinning dumbly at Altair despite himself.

“Well Malik, I think you’re very handsome and I would love it if you’d come to dinner with me,” he said charmingly.

Malik couldn’t believe him, but at the same time was hardly surprised. This was exactly the sort of dumb stunt he’d expect Altair to pull actually and he was totally falling for it. He didn’t even care if he was either because this was priceless. “Okay,” he said totally unable to say anything else.

“Great,” and Altair smiled.

Malik was so fucked.

—

Malik was having trouble getting his key into the lock. He wasn’t exactly surprised since he was a bit tipsy, not drunk exactly, not really, just pleasantly buzzed. Altair was leaning against the doorframe next him just looking at him, which was for some reason significantly affecting his ability to use a door properly. “Having trouble Malik?” Altair asked so smoothly he actually slurred.

“Shut up you,” he said shooting a stern look at Altair who just laughed. He moved off the doorframe to try to help him but that was just distracting since it involved Altair being right on top of him, pressing against him. “You’re even worse at this than me,” Malik scolded him.

“Hmmmm,” was the only reply he got and lips pressed against his neck kissing. This wouldn’t end well. An arm went around his waist tugging at him as Altair’s lips and mouth worked across Malik’s neck.

The lock of the door clacked open when Malik finally managed to get the key in and they all but stumbled inside, half laughing at they did so as they tried not to trip over their own feet. Malik closed the door and didn’t even manage to lock it before he was pushed firmly against the door and a pair of lips found their way to his. Malik sighed against them and fisted his hand in Altair’s hair firmly, keeping him close. Altair’s tongue slid against his lips seeking admittance and Malik opened his mouth to allow that hot tongue of his to properly examine the inside of his mouth. He sagged against the door, more leaning against it now than Altair was actually pushing him against it.

His brows went up when he felt Altair’s hands pulling at the button of his pant and finally broke the lip lock. “No,” he said pushing away his hands, “I don’t have sex with drunk people.”

“I’m not drunk,” Altair smirked burying his face in Malik’s neck and tried to do what he’d been doing before.

“I also don’t have sex when I’m drunk,” Malik said keeping a somewhat firm grip on that adventurous hand of Altair.

“You’re not drunk,” Altair said playfully into his ear a grin on his lips.

“Mmm, a little,” Malik countered.

“Damn,” Altair groaned into Malik’s shoulder and Malik just laughed.

“Also, it is too warm in here for these,” Malik said and partially shrugged off his coat. He only got it half way off before his own hand was shoved away and Altair peeled it off him, his hands deliberately slow to find the contours of his body under his clothes. It then took all three hands to get Altair out of his own coat he’d borrowed since he was having a terrible time with the button/zipper combo that held the thing closed. It didn’t help that Altair couldn’t keep those teasing lips of his to himself because they kept finding Malik’s lips or neck or throat or jaw or any other space of skin that made Malik’s hand even more awkward than it was on it’s own when he was tipsy. Finally though it ended up on the floor and Malik shoved his hand up his shirt, fingers brushing carefully over his bandages but being far from gentle when they met skin.

“Are you sure we can’t have sex?” Altair complained and Malik just snickered with a shake of his head. He then proceeded to talk to himself in Arabic sounding more than a little frustrated.

“You’ll live,” Malik reminded him, taking his hand out from under those clothes to grab him by the chin to kiss him again.

Malik was distantly aware of some noise that should have been very familiar but seemed strange to him. He was to wrapped up in the Syrian to give it much thought though. Or he did until someone banged on the door startling them both.

“Malik,” Kadar called through the door. “Why won’t the door open?”

“Your brother has the worst timing,” Altair groaned into Malik’s ear.

“You’re telling me,” he grumbled. Why couldn’t Kadar have been in his room? Or even been somewhere else?

“Mal,” he called again, “Are you sitting at the door again? I can’t come in and hug you if you are-

“Kadar. Shut up,” Malik yelled back hating that little smirk on Altair’s face just then.

“Let me in, it’s cold out here.” Grumbling Malik pushed Altair off him and picked up his coat which was on the floor and opened the door. “Thanks,” Kadar said leaning down and picking up a stack of books. God his brother was such a nerd sometimes Malik was almost embarrassed for him. He gave them both a quick once over, “Are you two drunk or were you hitting the Vicodin?” he asked kicking the door closed.

“I’m not drunk,” Altair informed him.

“Yeah, drunk,” Kadar nodded, “You’re too lucid to be on Vicodin,” and Altair flushed. He eyed the two older men for a second before going into his room but didn’t close the door, as Malik heard him drop the books Altair leaned over onto him, hands on his shoulder and spoke into his ear. What he was saying Malik had no idea since it was in Arabic annoyingly enough but he got the idea and turned red. He shoved Altair when Kadar came back and tried to school his face back into order but found it difficult. “Hey Mal, you should go to bed.”

“Sure,” Malik said though didn’t really want to.

Kadar gave him a look then turned to Altair, “You, go to bed.”

“Make me brat,” he sneered.

“What were you even doing out so late Kadar?” Malik asked trying to think strait.

“Library, I have a paper due soon. Which is partially why I’m saying go to bed,” he folded his arms over his chest, “The other part is because I don’t want you bitching and moaning because you stayed up so late like on Halloween.”

“You sound like dad you know, stop that,” Malik shook a finger at him.

“Bed,” and Kadar grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around, marching him to his room, “You too,” he called to Altair who grumbled but made his way over to the couch before slumping into it. “Really brother,” Kadar sighed, rolling his eyes as he shoved Malik into his room.

“What?” Malik asked.

“Nothing, just noTHING!” he said as Malik fell onto his bed, dragging Kadar with him making his voice jump an entire octave in doing so. “Malik,” he groaned, “I have a paper to finish,” he complained into Malik’s shoulder since the older man was hugging him and not letting him go. After a few moments he sighed and hugged him back, “Let go and go to bed,” he said and Malik did let him go so Kadar could stand. As his brother left Malik kicked off his shoes and didn’t bother to undress before going to bed.

Malik you know you want to drop your pants for Altair, just let him.

I do not believe this Kadar, just now? you it had that to appear now?
Malik you do not settle drunk? this is an excuse!
it only has fear of if to deliver Altair to it and to like and not to obtain more life without it (you already do not live more without it, you are the reality)

I stopped of surtar with young chapters
OMG, you writes very much
I go to continue following until the end this history!
I wait anxious the update >.

—

Altair woke up smelling bacon. He didn’t eat bacon, but damn if it didn’t smell good sometimes, especially when he’d been a bit drunk. Not enough to be hung over, but he definitely wasn’t exactly sober come morning and was still a bit in a haze and just tired. It probably didn’t help that his side still hurt so that when he sat up he swooned a bit. He looked over at the kitchen and saw Kadar in it wearing what was obviously his night clothes and looming over the stove no doubt staring at the pan where the bacon was frying.

He grabbed some clothes from his duffle and dressed under the blankets before rolling off the couch. He felt insanely sore all over from the past few days and sleeping on a couch and everything else that didn’t include the gunshot wound. That wasn’t sore, that just hurt. He grabbed the bottle of Ibuprofen from the coffee table where he’d put it the night before and took five of them before hobbling over to the kitchen bar and sitting.

“Morning,” Kadar said as he flipped the bacon though didn’t look at him.

“Mmm,” Altair agreed still not even awake enough for proper words. “Whr’s Malik?” he asked rubbing his face.

Kadar shot him a look from the stove, “It’s ten in the morning, he’s at work.”

“Oh, riht,” Altair’s head sagged a bit.

“Want some bacon?” Kadar asked after a solid minute of silence with only the sound of bacon to be the go-between. As he asked he fished the strips of pork out of the pan and put them on a paper towel to soak up the grease.

Altair glanced at him from under his fingers, which were still rubbing his face, “I’m Muslim Kadar,” he said in an unamused tone.

“You were drinking last night, Muslims don’t do that either.”

“Technically it depends on your caliph,” Altair grumbled, “I don’t eat pork.”

“More for me then,” he said shoving some bread in the toaster and cracked some eggs into the pan he’d just fried the bacon in. “What did you and Malik do last night?” he asked curiously. Altair didn’t answer and Kadar threw a piece of bread at him, striking him on the temple, “Hey, answer me,” he snapped.

“We went to dinner,” he said and slowly tore the crust off the bread.

Kadar hummed and turned the eggs over making the bacon grease hiss and spit in the pan. “Okay.”

“Do you care?” Altair asked slowly, equally curious why Kadar was asking him. He didn’t really know Kadar, just that he was Malik’s brother and went to Harvard on a nice cushy scholarship.

“Of course I do you prick,” he snapped and threw another piece of bread at him. This time Altair caught it. “I had to deal with Malik when you left and I’ll be damned if I had to go through that a third time,” he actually glared at Altair who looked down under his righteous anger.

“If it makes any difference I didn’t plan it like this,” Altair said and Kadar practically slammed his plateful of breakfast down on the counter opposite him.

“Oh really? What’s your excuse than?” he demanded still glaring.

“I couldn’t get in contact with him,” he said drumming his fingers on the counter feeling like he was meeting someone’s parents and not their younger brother. “And this was the first time since spring I was allowed to leave the country.”

Kadar’s lips made a thin, hard line as he stared at him, obviously thinking and trying to figure him out. Than he sighed and bowed his head, grabbing a piece of bacon and shoving it into his mouth. “I believe that,” he said in a normal tone, no longer sounding angry, gnawing on the bacon around his words. He picked at his eggs before grumbling to himself, “You know I should hate your guts.”

“Why?” that startled him, “I didn’t do anything to you.”

Kadar pointed his fork at him looking annoyed again, “My brother likes you, like really really likes you, and you totally fucked him over,” he informed him. “You have no idea what Malik was like when you left and I had to deal with it and try my damnedest to help him out because he kept waiting for you,” Altair felt terrible listening to Kadar, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t expecting. “I refuse to do that again too, or let him go through that for a third fucking time. So if you’re going to fuck with my brother again know I will. Kick. Your. Ass,” he ended in a growl and Altair didn’t even bother to think Kadar wouldn’t give him a run for his money, he wasn’t some weakling after all. Sure he was a nerd but he was still ex-military and with a brother like Malik he doubted Kadar had forgotten how to fight.

“Trust me, that isn’t the plan,” Altair said and shoved some of the bread into his mouth, having made a mess of the crust, he hated the crust. “And you said third time, what was the first?” he asked carefully. He really hoped it wasn’t Ezio.

Kadar didn’t answer right away, he just shoved another strip of bacon in his mouth along with some toast, chewing in a sort of angry though thoughtful manner. “His name was Sam and that’s all I’m saying. You wanna know about Sammy you get to ask him. Because that’s one thing I’m not comfortable going into.”

“Why?” Altair leaned his folded elbows against the counter.

“Because I don’t like talking about the dead. Bad karma or whatever,” and Kadar made and little dismissive hand motion.

“Okay,” Altair nodded slowly. He wasn’t so keen on actually asking Malik about it. How big of a bad move would that be? Bringing up a dead boyfriend he probably wasn't supposed to know about ranked up there with the stupidest things he’d ever done in his life. Best to let that one lie for a while before he even thought about asking. He ate the rest of the bread as Kadar moped up the yolk of his eggs with his toast and as the younger man was going to start the cleanup Altair found himself asking, “You seem oftly interested in Malik’s love life. Boyfriend situations non withstanding.”

“He’s in my love life, I don’t see why I shouldn’t muck around in his,” he said turning on the water.

“Yeah well my cousin, the smart one, is trying to get in your pants, I think he has plenty of reason for concern.”

Kadar found that amusing, “Yeah, I wouldn’t touch Federico with a nine foot stick.”

Altair blinked at him, “But you were always giving Malik a hard time about him butting into your love life about that-

“I like giving my brother a hard time,” and then he turned and pointed a soapy at hand. “Do not tell Malik I just told you that. I get way too much enjoyment about making him worry I’ll fuck his best friend’s brother.

Altair actually smiled in disbelief, unable to believe that Kadar was actually playing Federico. He’d honestly never heard or such a thing. “Is he still trying to sleep with you?” he asked leaning on the counter.

“Yep,” Kadar nodded. “Not. Interested.”

“Any reason?”

“Not my type. I like girls more for starters.”

“So you’re saying my cousin is ugly?”

Kadar sent him an annoyed half-glare that looked just like a look Malik would give him, Altair grinned. “I’m not into playboy Italians who think they’re gods’ gift to humanity. Federico’s good looking, not as terribly shameless as his brother, still not my thing. Not to mention, have you seen your Aunt? She is so scary!”

Altair laughed at that. “She isn’t,” Altair informed him, “You’re just easily intimidated.”

“Fuck you I’ve been shot at, not to mention blown up, and that was the time that didn’t include an RPG,” Kadar snarked.

Altair snorted, “Okay, okay,” he held up both hands in a peace keeping manner. Kadar finished cleaning up and as he was putting away the dishes Altair decided to go shower, still thinking about what the younger man had said about Malik.

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