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

Entry tags:

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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

writeanon here! THANKS! Sorry I kind of left it hanging for a while. I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D

This anon was wondering if this fic would ever get finished and it hassss and anon loves iitttt! It's perfect and sexy!

This anon is ashamed to say she'd given up hope on this one but thank goodness I'd marked it for updates via email.

This was perfect! I loved how the younger versions were awkward and fumbling because as much as I wanted to see them jump each other once they returned to their own time, this was a lot more realistic. It was hot and wonderful and the way you described the "future" Altair and Malik made my heart ache in an too-full-of-love way.

Thank you for the fill! <3

AND WHAT A PROMISE THAT IS, MALIK.

Oh writer!anon, I have so many feelings for this - I love the contrast of the newness of the relationship with the young versions, as opposed to the ease and familiarity of the old versions. *A* This was adorable.

So I was having an amazing day...

then... I FOUND THIS!

And somehow my day got BETTER!! I'm pretty sure my friends think I'm fucking deranged from all the squealing I was doing. Especially the end and especially the bottom Altair (which seems to be catching on lately on the kinkmeme (is so fucking happy about this)).

I love this so much! I hope your still working on it. D:

A long moment passed between them and Malik wondered if he had acted too quickly or too brashly. He sighed heavily and straightened up, releasing Altaïr's wrist. Altaïr remained bent over the desk, gripping the edges tightly. “Never mind. Safety and peace.” He rested his fingers on the small of Altaïr's back slightly and then stepped away, hoping to find some way out of this mess that did not include buggering his ten years younger lover over his desk.

“Yes.” Altaïr then mumbled into the wood, flattening himself further against it in embarrassment. Malik looked at him surprised as he twisted his head to catch Malik's eye. “Yes, it feels right to.”

Malik couldn't stop a smirk from spreading over his face as he leant over him again, hand braced by Altaïr's shoulder. “Is that so?”

In reply Altaïr rocked back slightly until his backside rested on the front of Malik's lap and cast him a strange look caught between defiance and a flutter of want. “Yes.” He replied with a certain definiteness that made Malik truly consider taking the man.

He must have looked surprised.

Altaïr twisted as he rose to his feet, Malik instantly falling into a defensive position in reaction to their fighting. But instead of moving to hurt the Dai, Altaïr only bent his head to the raised arm, brought a hand to the elbow with a feather light touch, and kissed the fabric of Malik's sleeve with their eyes still locked. In was not a wholly arousing thing to watch or experience and Altaïr would definitely need the practice in the eight years before he would find himself in such a position again until he could make Malik melt, but the message was clear enough to decipher.

Malik relaxed his arm, moving it instead to the side of Altaïr's neck with a firm but non-threatening grip and then pulled the young man closer until they were nose to nose, halting so that their lips were still inches apart and surveying the emotions that flickered over Altaïr's face.

Minute shock, excitement, hunger, hesitation...and certainty. He was stupid to have doubted him in the first place. Altaïr did not take what he did not want, even when humbled.

He gave a small hum, still watching the curve of Altaïr's brow should it gave any new information and the heaviness of his eyelids, and then in a quick movement they were out of focus and cast in shadow and lips had sealed forcefully and none-too-pleasantly over his; more of a press of teeth against teeth with lips unfortunate enough to be in the way than a kiss. Malik pulled away abruptly and took hold of the back of Altaïr's neck again.

“You're actually as much of a novice at kissing as you are at breaking out of holds.”

He gained a scowl for his efforts and he fought the urge to roll his eyes at the show of aggression, knowing that it would lead to provocation and result in either more bruising unrefined kisses or another fight. A fight probably followed by such kisses. Also, a part of him wondered if Altaïr would be a better lover if he taught him a few tricks now rather than during those sloppy, not at all good first times with each other.

“Softer.” Malik said and leant back in to press their lips back together without the pain that had been there before. Altaïr eagerly reciprocated and he must have been following Malik's advice because this time he wasn't attempting to cut off circulation to their lips by grinding their jaws together. Malik threaded his hand up into the short, sweat-dampened hair at the back of Altaïr's head and tilted the both of their heads so that they slotted together easily, happy to undulate his lips in chaste pecks and take it slowly, considering all of his options. Of course Altaïr – headstrong – gripped Malik's sides fiercely and pressed his tongue out from his mouth to insistently tease the seam of the Dai's lips. Malik's grasp in his hair tightened considerably and he pulled back again, tired with Altaïr's inability to start things slowly.

But he had no chance to voice this as hands flew from his waist to his shoulders and dragged him close again, a mouth lavishly attacking his neck with a rapidly drying tongue and a lack of finesse. He sighed, surprised by Altaïr's enthusiasm. There was nothing to do but go with it and hope that his superior knowledge and skill would soon melt the younger assassin to a less aggressive state.

Malik let his hand smooth down the curve of Altaïr's back, sticking to the sweat, until it could grasp at his buttocks, revelling in the pause it created and the small gasp of breath that moved on his damp skin. Teeth grazed the sensitive flesh beneath his ear, followed by a wet kiss and a searing suck. His knees weakened at the flood of arousal accompanying the action and he fought to keep quiet. The young man in his arms would no doubt be insufferable if he thought that he was at all good at this.

Intent on besting Altaïr, Malik quickly and roughly spun him around and forced him to bend over the desk again, pinning him down with his own weight just as he had during the last moments of their fight.

“What are you doing?” Altaïr spat into the wood, immediately tensing, and Malik pressed his hips into Altaïr's behind and pressed full kisses to the nape of the man's neck to answer. Beneath him Altaïr relaxed into the wood and shuddered at a long lick from the top of his spine to his hairline and at the half-hard length he could feel resting on his arse. The salt on Malik's tongue was strong and fresh and he fought the urge to spit, instead biting softly at the column of tissue presented. A deep groan rumbled in Altaïr's chest, small and quiet as if stifled, and sparked a flash of fierce want within Malik's loins. He took in a sharp breath and rubbed his hips against Altaïr's clothed behind, his hardening cock tenting against his own breeches..

“Altaïr,” He sighed, releasing the flesh and looking down at the quickly pinking imprints of his teeth. “I'm going to fuck you.”

Another moan, louder this time, bounced off of the wooden desktop and Malik grinned because he knew exactly how Altaïr ticked when he was in the bedroom. His hand flew to tug Altaïr's hips back and then creep around to the front, palming the hot, hard length trapped in his breeches momentarily before struggling with the fastenings. Altaïr shuddered into the woodwork, hips rolling forwards in search of attention.

Laces loosened and unravelled, Malik slid a skilled hand over the flat, haired planes of Altaïr's lower abdomen and into his clothes, grasping him in his fist and letting the man fuck it with small, excited and stifled whines. He had to be a virgin to be so easily undone.

“You've never done this before, have you?” The Dai asked as he pulled his hand, slick with precome, from the front of Altaïr's breeches, and then tugged at the back of the clothing, pushing it down.

Altaïr shook his head quickly as he let go of the desk and shoved at the trousers until they could be stepped out of. He was naked and lithe, strong muscles bunching under his skin with his movements and feet blackened with dirt. His chest heaved as he took a deep breath, body expanding and rising and then shrinking back into the wood.

He was young and untouched and Malik knew what it was like to be mistreated on your first time and outright refused to hurt this man – this man he would grow to love – the same way he had been. “I will be gentle.” He crooned, and ran his fingertips over a round buttock and then, at the persistent ache of his own arousal, pressed the strained front of his clothes to the other and rocked into the firm muscle. Altaïr's breath hitched and stuttered.

“No. Don't hold back. Please.” He whispered quietly, breathlessly and all but unintelligibly into the desk. Malik guessed that he probably wasn't supposed to have heard it. He pushed his robe off of his left shoulder and then shrugged it to the floor, letting air cool his warmed body and flush over newly exposed skin. His tunic remained on, hood back.

“Do you have a vial of oil?” He asked in reply, and pressed open-mouthed kisses on the small of Altaïr's back.

“Sheep's tail fat is in the chest.” Altaïr gasped, and his hands were occupied grasping the desktop or rubbing the top of his thigh, fingers creeping into the crease of his groin, ever so close to his erection yet unwilling to touch it lest this all be over too soon.

Malik scrambled over to the chest at the foot of Altaïr's bed and yanked it open, eyes darting over numerous objects – a few choice scrolls, a folded red sash, rags, a large empty space, ink, quills and finally three stoppered jars. On the second try an off-white, thick and gloopy matter slid around at the bottom the vessel. He shuffled back to Altaïr on his knees, jar in hand.

“And why do you have this, I wonder?” He asked, gently nipping the young man's rounded arse. Altaïr's hand curled into a fist on his hip. He didn't answer. Malik watched what he could of the younger man from his position on the floor, idly placing the jar on the floor and massaging a hairy thigh. Had Altaïr in fact been experimenting with penetration long before they had began fucking?

Thirty seconds and no answer later Malik discarded the question for another time – hopefully one he could tease out of the man when he was back ten years into the future.

“Spread yourself for me.” He said, voice husky and low, and Altaïr's hands hastily flew to pull his cheeks apart and expose a clenched pucker. “Good.” He mumbled, and kissed the dimple where Altaïr's ring finger dug into his skin, slowly making a path towards that hole so delightfully exposed to him and listening to Altaïr's choked whimpers. At the first swipe of his tongue over the tight pucker Altaïr was already panting and keening through gritted teeth. He fought back a smile in favour of pushing his face closer until his nose uncomfortably pressed against flesh, and lashing out his hot tongue again to lick and tease and pry. His hand slid over Altaïr's on densely muscled flesh as Malik gave an obscene moan and tightened his tongue into a hard spear to ease it past Altaïr's loosened hole.

Altaïr chocked back a groan, tugging his hand out from beneath Malik's to desperately grasp and tug at his erection with quick, efficient movements until he came into his own hand, whimpering.

Malik withdrew and kissed the pucker twice before turning to the jar he had abandoned. Altaïr was boneless on the desk, panting.

“We're not done yet.” Malik purred, his voice husky and lust-filled. Between his legs Altaïr's softening cock twitched and the young man jerked in place, hypersensitive.

“Are you going to fuck me?” He asked, throat sounding wound tight and voice breathy.

“Yes.”

Malik removed the sealed lid of the jar and delved his fingers into the cold, unpleasant mixture. The slick fat coated his hand well, and when he removed his hand the smell was not too unbearable.

“I'm going to prepare you first.”

Altaïr nodded his consent, but still jumped when cold fingers smeared the lubricant over his hole.

“Just relax.” He mumbled, and then traced the ring of muscle with his middle finger twice, feather light, until slowly pressing it in. Immediately he was surrounded by tight, searing hot muscles on all sides. He could faintly feel the heightened rhythm of Altaïr's heartbeat around him, pulsating. He pushed his finger in further to the second knuckle. His other fingers obscured him from going in any further, pressing their knuckles on the slippery skin. Altaïr was breathing heavily beneath him.

“Think of something else. Don't dwell on it.” Malik said, and shifted in place as his erection began to ache from a lack of attention.

“You're in me.” Altaïr choked. A flood of arousal rushed south. The front of Malik's breeches dampened with precome.

“Not yet.”

He crooked his finger to press against Altaïr's prostate. Though a centimetre or so shy the reaction he gained was beautiful. With a concealed whimper Altaïr bucked in place, unsure if he should grind into that finger or pull away, overwhelmed. Malik pressed down again, straining his hand to reach in as far as he could. When Altaïr rose his hips to meet him he slid in another finger and gently scissored them.

“I'm not going to break.” Altaïr growled indignantly into the desk and rocked his hips back.

“Yes you are. Now shut up and enjoy yourself.” Malik chided, and then spread his fingers further, loosening the strong muscles. Altaïr remained silent, breathing heavily and hips twitching up onto Malik's fingers when they came close to his prostate. His cock stirred and hardened again between his legs as Malik squeezed in a third finger. He signalled a twinge of pain with a soft grunt and by scrabbling at the wood beneath his palms. “See? You're as much of a novice in bed as you are in a fight. Look before you leap.”

Stubbornly Altaïr took that as a challenge and bore up onto Malik's fingers as they slowly spread him open and thrust shallowly in an attempt to make them brush against his prostate once more. His breathy, strained and quiet moan signalled what little success he had. Raising up onto his elbows and arching his chest away from the hard wood beneath it, he rolled himself back onto Malik's hand, shifting and gasping and awkwardly trying his best to recreate the pleasure he had felt before. Malik smirked and, after stiffening his fingers and pressing down towards the spot Altaïr had been so determined to reach, pulled his fingers out. Moaning, Altaïr rocked back as far as he could, following. His toes spread and strained upwards and his heels ground into the warmed stone floor. Malik pulled at the laces of his breeches impatiently. Altaïr twisted to watch him past the curve of his hips and buttocks.

This stranger...This absolute stranger with one arm, a familiar face – too familiar now that he stopped and looked at it and wanted it – and a grace and power both in body as in wit that he had not found in others for far too long a time, was going to fuck him. And he wanted it. Wanted it so much that he found himself edgy. He balled his hands into fists. He rocked back and forth on the spot. He caught whines in the back of his throat, and then let one slip and grow into a groan when the stranger – still nameless, Altaïr remembered, and suddenly regretted never getting an answer – shoved his breeches to his knees, took more fat in hand and smeared it over his cock. A smirk was on their face when they stood up, curled above their small beard, and hauntingly, frustratingly devious.

He had seen cocks before, and for a much longer amount of time as his own behind was suddenly in the way of seeing it any longer. Yes, he had seen them, mainly in the Hamam at Masyaf, and he had seen his own – of course – but not like this. Not flushed and wet and hard and wanting for him. The head, slick and warm but cool with the layer of lubricant over it, pushed between his cheeks and slid over the sensitive skin of his crack. He jumped. A warm, slippery hand pushed him to face the wall again.

“Relax, Altaïr.” Malik mumbled and leant over the young man, pressing open mouthed kisses to the nape of his neck. His hand left Altaïr's back and took hold of the base of his erection to guide himself in. Licking under Altaïr's ear – the taste of sweat and earth strong on his tongue – Malik pushed the tip of his cock against the prepared entrance. It held, held, and then opened, taking him inside a wonderful heat. He hissed and Altaïr grunted and snarled in pain. His head hit the wall and he ground his scalp against it, teeth grit. Malik stilled, and his hand moved to rub the small of Altaïr's back.

“Calm, calm...” He whispered, and waited for Altaïr's breath to become less strained and his shoulders to relax. He pressed himself in further.

“Your name. What is your name?” Altaïr hissed at the wall as Malik pushed his erection further in, tortuously slow.

“It is of no matter.” Malik replied, voice tight and controlled as he watched his length disappear into the man beneath him.

“I need to know.” The pain had pushed away the haze of arousal – though it still lingered, unwavering, on the edge of his consciousness, his member half-hard and easy to bring back to full hardness. Lucid, the thirst for his once attacker's and now lover's name plagued him and provided a distraction from the pain.

Malik sighed. With one final push after a long moment of waiting he was finally resting his hips to the plump flesh of Altaïr's behind. The dai moaned loudly, encased by tight heat. His heart fluttered at an increased tempo and his head swam. He plucked a name at random from his mind.

“Kamil.”

Under any normal circumstance Altaïr wound have easily been able to see that the name was a mere anagram of 'Malik' and everything would have crashed around them. But this was not normal circumstances, and Malik was grinding himself in a slow circle, losing what little patience he had left and sending Altaïr into a fit of moans and short, soft keening sounds. The young assassin's brain scattered. The soft head of Malik's cock pressed fleetingly over his prostate and stole his breath. He bucked back onto the cock splitting him open and all was undone.

Head against Altaïr's neck and arm holding him above the young and prone form, Malik thrust, and with a moan Altaïr bucked back to meet him a moment too late. He met the next one dead on and violently, moaning louder as pleasure spiralled from his prostate to the tip of his hardened arousal, which dribbled precome to the flagstones. Malik watched as the muscles shifted in Altaïr's back with increasingly gruff groans and forceful thrusts. Next to his ear he could hear everything from the hitched breath and harsh pants of his lover to the moans and curses and the whimpered, 'Fuck me' that pulled from him a full-bodied moan. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the room, echoing off the stone walls, floor and ceiling and mixing with their moans and the wet sounds of their meeting. Sweat was in Malik's eyes and he wiped it away on Altaïr's shoulder, only to find that also slicked with sweat and not at all effective. On Altaïr's next moan and whispered plea his hand scrabbled away and down to his cock, jerking it once more. Malik took the lobe of his ear into his mouth and sucked it before murmuring quietly and huskily to the other various obscene promises.

“I'm going to make you come again, Altaïr.” He panted, and Altaïr hung his head and replied with another sound, desperately tugging at his erection and bucking towards the harsh meeting of their bodies. “Going to make you moan. Going to make your legs useless. Fuck-” He broke off and grit his teeth, straightening up and gripping Altaïr's hip with bruising force, pulling him back to meet each forceful thrust. “Going to make you howl.”

Altaïr's voice bounced off the wall in front of him, loud and breathless. The hand on his erection squeezed gently. It pumped desperately. Jerkily. It was no longer about rhythm but about release. Pulled back on the cock that was fucking him and feeling the intensity of his orgasm build and build he gave himself over with a long moan. Come spilt from Altaïr's cock and fell to the floor. It joined his older seed in painting the underside of his desk. His voice broke. Malik had pulled out, still hard and close – very close – and his hand was tugging at Altaïr's side, forcing him onto his back and bruising his hip on the side of the desk. He stroked himself quickly over Altaïr's slowly softening cock until, with a moan, he too came, painting white stripes over Altaïr's lower stomach. It beaded in the tangle of his coarse public hair and dripped slowly and lewdly down and over his sac. Caught in the aftermath of his climax and captivated by the stunning sight Altaïr made he smeared the viscous fluid with his fingers. The skin under his fingers jumped. Through tired eyes he looked once more at that barely scarred chest.

A hand, tentative and barely shaking and warmer and smoother than he could remember, touched his hip. Drawing away Malik stumbled over to the bedroll and collapsed onto it, his legs tied by his breeches tangled around his knees and caught by his boots.

After a moment of sitting on the bedroll alone, regaining his breath quickly and easily and feeling all energy leave his body, the sound of Altaïr joining him and the heat of a wiry body falling down next to his was tangible in the otherwise still atmosphere. A hand on his jaw drew him blindly into a sloppy kiss. With a loud and muffled moan he recognised a fluid between their tongues, slick and salty and very obviously the come they had both spilled. Altaïr swallowed audibly and omitted a small sound from the back of his throat. When Malik opened his eyes he found the young man with his eyes closed, hovering mere centimetres away. With his lips kiss swollen the line of a fresh scar on his lips was strangely invisible, whereas in ten years time he would know it to stand out further; fiercely cutting into the plump flesh.

He cleared his throat, Altaïr pulling away at the noise, and got to shoddily pulling his breeches back up. Altaïr eyed his clothes by the desk. His trousers were stained with his climax from their place on the floor, watching the rapidly drying come on his stomach and around his cock. He would need to wash off any evidence and then visit the Hamam, thought the thought of being in any place with so many nude males had him on edge. How would he be able to survive in a room full of exposed members when one had been inside of him not too long ago?

On his knees Malik finally pulled his breeches the rest of the way up and, by resting on his haunches, managed to do them up. Not very well, but well enough. For now. With that done he rested back against to wall, legs stretched out in front of him and exhaustion making itself known throughout his body. An argument followed by a fight followed by a good fuck. He hadn't had one of those in a while. Altaïr shuffled to sit at the head end of his mattress near his blades and polishing equipment. That was what must have gone in the gap within the chest, Malik noted. He hummed to himself thoughtfully. Altaïr's eyes immediately snapped to him.

“Kalim, you said?” He asked, and his throat sounded slightly hoarse. A slight quiver to his brow gave away his brain beginning to string things together and connect dots. Malik panicked slightly, though did not let it show on his face. He questioned how he would get back once again. Fragments of Altaïr's research flitted uselessly through his mind. He raked through his memory to try and find a clue in his last moments in the future. He grasped widly at an idea and hoped it was not foolish, nor that the Apple would reject it.

“Altaïr, I have come to warn you that-” He began, but suddenly Altaïr had snatched up a knife and was holding it in front of him.

“You are not who you say you are.” He hissed, eyes narrowing. They then widened suddenly. A look of realisation dawned on his face. Malik felt panic and fear seize him. “Mal- ?”

“-That you will continue to be a novice, even when Grand Master.” Malik blurted out in a rush. There was a jerk at the nape of his neck as if someone had yanked his hood. White flooded his vision and caused him to screw up his eyes. He was thrown backwards.

A/N: Bit of a miscount there, sorry guys. Also, sorry for how long this took to get out!! I mean - really, over a month!! This is my most neglected piece. There are still 2 more parts to come out. I can't guarantee being at all faster, so I just hope that the finished product will make up for it!!

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH HELL I WENT THROUGH TO REPLY TO THIS.

ANON, I LOVE YOU. You made my day with this comment. You really did. The end is written and now just needs to be typed up and improved. I hope that you don't expect me to buy you a new keyboard because I'm broke.
LOVE EVERYWHERE.

Gah fuck! What a freaking tease this is! Don't worry about making us wait, I'm way guiltier than you /hasn't updated a piece in about two months+

That was so fucking hot though. I can't wait till you write the rest 8D

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

Ah, I'm glad I have pleased. The rest shall appear some time in the not-so-near future.

—

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 12 of 27

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

Re: OP

Re: Tomorrow Was Not Dull [7/7]

Re: Tomorrow Was Not Dull [7/7]

Re: Tomorrow Was Not Dull [7/7]

Re: Tomorrow Was Not Dull [7/7]

Re: Two Eagles (124b/?)

2; The wound [6/?]

2; The wound [7/?]

2; The wound [8/?]

2; The wound [9/?]

2; The wound [10/?]

2; The wound [11/13]

2; The wound [12/12]

Re: FILL [5/?]

Re: 2; The wound [12/12]

Altered Flight Pattern (56/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (57/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (58a/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (58b/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (59/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (60/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (61/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (61/?)

Re: 2; The wound [12/12]

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (62/?)