(I'm sorry, fill 5 got in twice - I have to fight with LJ to post this... sorry about that)
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Malik was not an idiot and such unsubtle diversion did not work on him – but he had to wonder – why was Altair being sneaky? He knew what was to come next, and he was prepared for it. He barely heard his name, carried by a husky whisper in the suffocating air encircling them. The urge to scream at Altair to do something died when a sharp, white hot pain shot through his body, splitting him in two. And scream he did, though not exactly in the way he wanted to. He was lying, he was not prepared – and his body instantly reacted in jerking away from the source of his pain. The strong grip holding his hip prevented him from going far though and he suddenly was aware of lips brushing against his ear. Like affection shown at the wrong moment.
“You would have hated me if I had prepared you, and you know it.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Altair's voice as he said that – as if he were savouring some well-timed revenge. Of course, he was careful to liberally apply the oily substance from the vial on his own erection, as to avoid needless pain for Malik. But he also knew it would be painful, and he had to pause. He was not heartless but his whole body was shaking from the restraint he put himself under. Littering kisses and bites along Malik's neck, he resisted the urge to tell him just how much he wanted to have him now and not waiting. Patience was not something the dai had in great quantity, and thus he decided to shut it. A large scar ran on his collarbone to the shoulder and he followed it, until he knew he was reaching some off-limit place. He knew Malik well enough to know that touching his amputated arm would have the dai go ballistic. But he was curious – wanted to ask him if it still hurt. It had to. He felt Malik's forbidding gaze on the side of his face and he would not be surprised if the dai suddenly showed red in his eagle vision. He preferred leaving it alone now, despite this nagging want to touch his scarred his skin – easing his pain – he knew it would aggravate Malik if he did. One glance at the dai told him his life depended on him making a move and he did. Slowly, almost carefully – so much he cringed at the feeling. If the room was previously hot, it was now stiffling, his breathing catching his lungs, racking his throat. He knew he was hurting Malik, he felt his hipbones under his fingers, he saw him clenching his jaw, trying to ward off the pain – without a word. But it was not what he wanted. Bending, he licked his partn- lover's... lips, coaxing him into letting go. His eyes widened when a pair of scalding lips crashing against his, a tonguer sneaking in and dominating him. He did not mind – he fought back, because he could not bear the notion of being passive. The earlier near-mistake with Malik's arm seemed forgotten as the fiend started to suck on his tongue. Something pulled at his bloodstream, drawing him to Malik helplessly, only to be cut off when teeth mercilessly bit down. A sharp whimper escaped him as he could not keep his hips from snapping forward, forcing his way deeper within the apparently willing body of the dai. It was too much at once, the both of them panting at the sudden move. Altair's heart was beating wildly and it was as if Malik's was mirroring it. He wanted to apologize, but could not speak, the words locked in his throat, lost against the heavy breath of the assassin. A hand caught the back of his head, keeping him there – a silent way of telling him not to move. Or was it?
[FILL] Incense 6/
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Malik was not an idiot and such unsubtle diversion did not work on him – but he had to wonder – why was Altair being sneaky? He knew what was to come next, and he was prepared for it. He barely heard his name, carried by a husky whisper in the suffocating air encircling them. The urge to scream at Altair to do something died when a sharp, white hot pain shot through his body, splitting him in two. And scream he did, though not exactly in the way he wanted to. He was lying, he was not prepared – and his body instantly reacted in jerking away from the source of his pain. The strong grip holding his hip prevented him from going far though and he suddenly was aware of lips brushing against his ear. Like affection shown at the wrong moment.
“You would have hated me if I had prepared you, and you know it.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Altair's voice as he said that – as if he were savouring some well-timed revenge. Of course, he was careful to liberally apply the oily substance from the vial on his own erection, as to avoid needless pain for Malik. But he also knew it would be painful, and he had to pause. He was not heartless but his whole body was shaking from the restraint he put himself under. Littering kisses and bites along Malik's neck, he resisted the urge to tell him just how much he wanted to have him now and not waiting. Patience was not something the dai had in great quantity, and thus he decided to shut it. A large scar ran on his collarbone to the shoulder and he followed it, until he knew he was reaching some off-limit place. He knew Malik well enough to know that touching his amputated arm would have the dai go ballistic. But he was curious – wanted to ask him if it still hurt. It had to. He felt Malik's forbidding gaze on the side of his face and he would not be surprised if the dai suddenly showed red in his eagle vision. He preferred leaving it alone now, despite this nagging want to touch his scarred his skin – easing his pain – he knew it would aggravate Malik if he did. One glance at the dai told him his life depended on him making a move and he did. Slowly, almost carefully – so much he cringed at the feeling. If the room was previously hot, it was now stiffling, his breathing catching his lungs, racking his throat. He knew he was hurting Malik, he felt his hipbones under his fingers, he saw him clenching his jaw, trying to ward off the pain – without a word. But it was not what he wanted. Bending, he licked his partn- lover's... lips, coaxing him into letting go. His eyes widened when a pair of scalding lips crashing against his, a tonguer sneaking in and dominating him. He did not mind – he fought back, because he could not bear the notion of being passive. The earlier near-mistake with Malik's arm seemed forgotten as the fiend started to suck on his tongue. Something pulled at his bloodstream, drawing him to Malik helplessly, only to be cut off when teeth mercilessly bit down. A sharp whimper escaped him as he could not keep his hips from snapping forward, forcing his way deeper within the apparently willing body of the dai. It was too much at once, the both of them panting at the sudden move. Altair's heart was beating wildly and it was as if Malik's was mirroring it. He wanted to apologize, but could not speak, the words locked in his throat, lost against the heavy breath of the assassin. A hand caught the back of his head, keeping him there – a silent way of telling him not to move. Or was it?