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!!
2; The wound [12/12]
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!!