‘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.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (66/?)
‘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.