The excitement in Altaïr's nod was barely concealed and made something in Malik ache. He knew that he had been busy lately, too tired or too worked up to do much of anything besides maybe a sleepy hand job and a rut in the morning shower. Altaïr just seemed to be made out of a calm sort of energy, never really looking as exhausted as he felt. And then there was another pang, because Altaïr worked just as hard, just as much, and yet always tried to make time for Malik.
"I'll make it up to you," Malik said, cupping Altaïr's jaw to kiss him fully, like a promise.
*
The soup was good and Malik was full enough to be lulled into another nap, his head in Altaïr's lap while the other man read. He drifted in and out, an eye opened to watch the Discovery Channel or Altaïr's face. More often than not it was Altaïr's face, the man's face concentrated and handsome with the glasses perched at the edge of his nose. They stayed like that until interrupted, a rapt on the door having Malik groaning and sitting up.
"You get it," Malik said, leaning against the back of the couch as he drew the blanket tighter around himself.
Altaïr shut his book, looking at Malik from over his glasses. "Because you're sick?"
"Because chances are it’s one of your family members," Malik responded just in time for, "Cugino bello!" to be yelled through the door.
Altaïr frowned. "Point taken," he said, standing and moving to their bedroom first for a shirt before coming to the front door and opening it with a jerk of his arm.
Ezio was all smiles from the other side of the door, wrapping Altaïr in a customary bear hug before scanning the apartment for Malik to receive the same treatment. "Leave him alone," Altaïr warned, coming back to sit at the couch with a low sigh. "He was vomitting all day. Who knows what'll happen if you squeeze him too hard."
The fall of Ezio's shoulders was a bit sad, sitting beside Malik with a warm hand against his back. "What's up?" he questioned, the concern evident in his voice.
Malik's shrug was sleep heavy, turning his head to meet Ezio's eyes. "Dehydration, says the doctor. I'm fine, really. Just tired."
It always amazed Malik how Altaïr, Ezio, and Desmond could have the same face and yet wear it so differently. With Altaïr, it had taken years for Malik to learn what the subtle changes of his faces meant, which emotions would flit across his face that would seem impassive to the unknowledgeable person. Ezio was open and shameless, handsome in his own right and the only one of the three that could support a decent amount of facial hair and not look dirty.
"I'll have Claudia make you something," Ezio said firmly, his tone offering no room for objection.
Malik's faint smile was apparently a suitable thank you, Ezio smiling back warmly before leaning against the arm of the couch to face them both. "I came over to tell you some wonderful news," Ezio reported, Malik and Altaïr immediately going on edge.
"You're getting a vasectomy?" Altaïr offered hopefully, ignoring the absolutely wounded look on his cousin's face with practiced ease.
"Mio dio do not kid, Altaïr," Ezio said sternly. "No, no. I plan on asking Leonardo's hand in marriage!" The blank stares were apparently not what Ezio had in mind for a response to his news, frowning generously before asking, "What?"
"Ezio, you tell us this every other week," Malik pointed out, sighing a little as he rubbed over his eyes. Altaïr caught the blanket as it slipped, tucking it over his shoulders once more as a reflex in comparison to a gesture of affection.
"So much hurt in this apartment today," Ezio sighed out to no one in particular. "But this time is in seriousness. Look!" Malik's eyes widened when Ezio went fishing in the pocket of his pants; Altaïr let out a choking noise when a small box was produced.
"Holy shit," Altaïr said, leaning forward in order to snatch the ring box from Ezio's outstretched hand. "You've got to be kidding me."
Ezio looked oddly smug as Altaïr opened the box to reveal the silver band inside, elegant and simple. Malik shuffled a bit closer to look, head tilted against Altaïr's shoulder before whistling out.
(Malik/Altaïr, mpreg) Untitled, 1.f/?
"I'll make it up to you," Malik said, cupping Altaïr's jaw to kiss him fully, like a promise.
The soup was good and Malik was full enough to be lulled into another nap, his head in Altaïr's lap while the other man read. He drifted in and out, an eye opened to watch the Discovery Channel or Altaïr's face. More often than not it was Altaïr's face, the man's face concentrated and handsome with the glasses perched at the edge of his nose. They stayed like that until interrupted, a rapt on the door having Malik groaning and sitting up.
"You get it," Malik said, leaning against the back of the couch as he drew the blanket tighter around himself.
Altaïr shut his book, looking at Malik from over his glasses. "Because you're sick?"
"Because chances are it’s one of your family members," Malik responded just in time for, "Cugino bello!" to be yelled through the door.
Altaïr frowned. "Point taken," he said, standing and moving to their bedroom first for a shirt before coming to the front door and opening it with a jerk of his arm.
Ezio was all smiles from the other side of the door, wrapping Altaïr in a customary bear hug before scanning the apartment for Malik to receive the same treatment. "Leave him alone," Altaïr warned, coming back to sit at the couch with a low sigh. "He was vomitting all day. Who knows what'll happen if you squeeze him too hard."
The fall of Ezio's shoulders was a bit sad, sitting beside Malik with a warm hand against his back. "What's up?" he questioned, the concern evident in his voice.
Malik's shrug was sleep heavy, turning his head to meet Ezio's eyes. "Dehydration, says the doctor. I'm fine, really. Just tired."
It always amazed Malik how Altaïr, Ezio, and Desmond could have the same face and yet wear it so differently. With Altaïr, it had taken years for Malik to learn what the subtle changes of his faces meant, which emotions would flit across his face that would seem impassive to the unknowledgeable person. Ezio was open and shameless, handsome in his own right and the only one of the three that could support a decent amount of facial hair and not look dirty.
"I'll have Claudia make you something," Ezio said firmly, his tone offering no room for objection.
Malik's faint smile was apparently a suitable thank you, Ezio smiling back warmly before leaning against the arm of the couch to face them both. "I came over to tell you some wonderful news," Ezio reported, Malik and Altaïr immediately going on edge.
"You're getting a vasectomy?" Altaïr offered hopefully, ignoring the absolutely wounded look on his cousin's face with practiced ease.
"Mio dio do not kid, Altaïr," Ezio said sternly. "No, no. I plan on asking Leonardo's hand in marriage!" The blank stares were apparently not what Ezio had in mind for a response to his news, frowning generously before asking, "What?"
"Ezio, you tell us this every other week," Malik pointed out, sighing a little as he rubbed over his eyes. Altaïr caught the blanket as it slipped, tucking it over his shoulders once more as a reflex in comparison to a gesture of affection.
"So much hurt in this apartment today," Ezio sighed out to no one in particular. "But this time is in seriousness. Look!" Malik's eyes widened when Ezio went fishing in the pocket of his pants; Altaïr let out a choking noise when a small box was produced.
"Holy shit," Altaïr said, leaning forward in order to snatch the ring box from Ezio's outstretched hand. "You've got to be kidding me."
Ezio looked oddly smug as Altaïr opened the box to reveal the silver band inside, elegant and simple. Malik shuffled a bit closer to look, head tilted against Altaïr's shoulder before whistling out.