I don't know if anyone's still reading this... this scene didn't want to flow, at all. After this though updates will pick up again, promise; got some new vigor. --
"You're too important for me to let something happen to you. Do you understand?" Altair asked kissing his knuckles.
"I... yes," he nodded slowly.
"I hope so," Altair said softly continuing to kiss his knuckles with their myriad of tiny scars, "I would become undone if I was to lose you," it wasn't a lie either. "After all who would have the guts to tell me to do something if I didn't want to," he grinned slightly.
"I've never done that," Cipriano said frowning.
"Threatening me when I stayed in my room, not even Ezio came to see me."
"He was busy," Cipriano insisted and Altair smiled, so modest this boy was.
"He knew better than to anger me again for he saw it once and I doubt wanted to see it again."
"Nor would I," Cipriano nodded in total understanding since he'd seen what Altair's anger looked like directed at someone else and probably didn't want to imagine it directed at him. "Have you forgiven him?"
"I was not angry at him. I was angry at myself."
"Why?"
"It doesn't matter anymore, I am past it," mostly past it at least, he was still trying to think of how to fix what he'd blundered. "We are not talking about Ezio though," he bruised Cipriano's knuckles and fingers with more kisses. He felt the other of the darker man's long fingered hands comb through Altair's hair.
"Aalam?" he asked. Altair just hummed, enjoying the caresses given to him freely by the young man. "You would never hurt me would you?"
"No," he lied. One day he would hurt him just like he hurt all the others. The ones that lasted always wanted to become old with him. But while they could do such a thing he could not grow old with them, he did not age, he did not change, he was eternal, more than even stone. Stone could change its form, become new stone, but Altair could not, all he could be was what he was right now. Even after all this time he'd yet to figure a way out of hurting those he loved, because in the end he became just as wounded as those he hurt. "I would never hurt you," the words came freely to his lips when he spoke, for years of lies made even the deepest ones sweet to any ears.
Cipriano leaned down and kissed him gently, a soft smoothing of scared lips over his own with the one deep, permanent scar. "Good," Cipriano said against his lips.
"Come to bed and let’s put this behind us," Altair said softly gently stroking his face the skin smooth under his calloused fingers.
Cipriano nodded and shed the remaining of his clothing, letting the pants drop onto the floor with a soft 'wumpth'. Altair lay down on the bed and was surprised when Cipriano climbed onto it after him not beside him but on top of him. "Aalam," he said as almost a whisper, tipping his head down and kissing him before pulling away the sheet Altair had pulled over himself to caress his bare chest.
"You don't have to do this Cipriano," he said when they came up for air.
"I know, but I want to," he said and ran one of his hands through Altair's hair.
"I don't want to hurt you-"
Cipriano laughed softly, "You won't. You never would, not now," and kissed Altair again to silence any complaints Altair might make. "I trust you," he almost told him to stop then since he did not feel worthy of such innocent and boundless affection this young man was all too willingly showering him with. Instead he pulled Cipriano close and kissed him firmly, pulling away the rest of the sheet as the darker man ground his body against his.
Cipriano's hands fumbled over Altair's scarred and marked skin. He knew the young man had every blemish, every cut, every scar, every tiny imperfection on his skin, a number which had only increased with his age, memorized and his lips and tongue seemed to find every one. Altair sighed when that red tongue rolled over a particularly large one on his chest where he'd been cut from flank to breast in one fell swoop back in the thirteen hundreds. Again and again Cipriano touched those old scars and made Altair shiver and where his tongue had passed would break into goose flesh as saliva cooled and dried on his skin rapidly.
Two Eagles (119/?)
--
"You're too important for me to let something happen to you. Do you understand?" Altair asked kissing his knuckles.
"I... yes," he nodded slowly.
"I hope so," Altair said softly continuing to kiss his knuckles with their myriad of tiny scars, "I would become undone if I was to lose you," it wasn't a lie either. "After all who would have the guts to tell me to do something if I didn't want to," he grinned slightly.
"I've never done that," Cipriano said frowning.
"Threatening me when I stayed in my room, not even Ezio came to see me."
"He was busy," Cipriano insisted and Altair smiled, so modest this boy was.
"He knew better than to anger me again for he saw it once and I doubt wanted to see it again."
"Nor would I," Cipriano nodded in total understanding since he'd seen what Altair's anger looked like directed at someone else and probably didn't want to imagine it directed at him. "Have you forgiven him?"
"I was not angry at him. I was angry at myself."
"Why?"
"It doesn't matter anymore, I am past it," mostly past it at least, he was still trying to think of how to fix what he'd blundered. "We are not talking about Ezio though," he bruised Cipriano's knuckles and fingers with more kisses. He felt the other of the darker man's long fingered hands comb through Altair's hair.
"Aalam?" he asked. Altair just hummed, enjoying the caresses given to him freely by the young man. "You would never hurt me would you?"
"No," he lied. One day he would hurt him just like he hurt all the others. The ones that lasted always wanted to become old with him. But while they could do such a thing he could not grow old with them, he did not age, he did not change, he was eternal, more than even stone. Stone could change its form, become new stone, but Altair could not, all he could be was what he was right now. Even after all this time he'd yet to figure a way out of hurting those he loved, because in the end he became just as wounded as those he hurt. "I would never hurt you," the words came freely to his lips when he spoke, for years of lies made even the deepest ones sweet to any ears.
Cipriano leaned down and kissed him gently, a soft smoothing of scared lips over his own with the one deep, permanent scar. "Good," Cipriano said against his lips.
"Come to bed and let’s put this behind us," Altair said softly gently stroking his face the skin smooth under his calloused fingers.
Cipriano nodded and shed the remaining of his clothing, letting the pants drop onto the floor with a soft 'wumpth'. Altair lay down on the bed and was surprised when Cipriano climbed onto it after him not beside him but on top of him. "Aalam," he said as almost a whisper, tipping his head down and kissing him before pulling away the sheet Altair had pulled over himself to caress his bare chest.
"You don't have to do this Cipriano," he said when they came up for air.
"I know, but I want to," he said and ran one of his hands through Altair's hair.
"I don't want to hurt you-"
Cipriano laughed softly, "You won't. You never would, not now," and kissed Altair again to silence any complaints Altair might make. "I trust you," he almost told him to stop then since he did not feel worthy of such innocent and boundless affection this young man was all too willingly showering him with. Instead he pulled Cipriano close and kissed him firmly, pulling away the rest of the sheet as the darker man ground his body against his.
Cipriano's hands fumbled over Altair's scarred and marked skin. He knew the young man had every blemish, every cut, every scar, every tiny imperfection on his skin, a number which had only increased with his age, memorized and his lips and tongue seemed to find every one. Altair sighed when that red tongue rolled over a particularly large one on his chest where he'd been cut from flank to breast in one fell swoop back in the thirteen hundreds. Again and again Cipriano touched those old scars and made Altair shiver and where his tongue had passed would break into goose flesh as saliva cooled and dried on his skin rapidly.