Altaïr paused, clearly looking torn then. Finally, anger won out. "Fine!" Altaïr said, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. "And if I could, I wouldn't need you around!"
"Ew!"
"Shut up!" Malik roared, to Altaïr or Malik it was unclear, before slamming the door to the bedroom shut hard enough to, ironically, send a picture of all four of them to the ground.
*
Malik must have dozed off once again, curled up in their bed with Altaïr's pillow on the floor, because the next time he looked at the clock it was nearly an hour later and Altaïr was coming into the room.
"Desmond's here," he informed, shutting the door behind himself and leaning against it as he stared at Malik. "So you want to stop being a bitch for five seconds and come say hi?"
Malik sighed out, a hand pressed to his forehead as he sat up and glared at Altaïr. "You're being a bitch," he mumbled, not the most clever thing he could have come up with but he was working with little patience and a lot of headache.
Altaïr's sigh was a tired one, walking the short distance to their bed. He paused on the way to pick up his pillow, eyes narrowing to Malik but apparently decided against opening another can of worms when Malik narrowed his eyes back at him. He placed the pillow on the bed before laying down, settling his head into Malik's lap warmly.
Malik wanted to protest. Maybe punch him in the nose. But Altaïr was right--he was being a bitch. They both were. Probably because they didn't know any other way to be with each other.
"You feeling any better?" Altaïr asked, his eyes fluttering shut as Malik began cording his fingers through his hair. It was getting longer with the winter months, brushing against the tops of his ears. There seemed to be an ever present stubble along Altaïr's jaw, as well, a tired look to his golden eyes. Malik still thought him to be the most handsome man he'd ever seen, though.
"I'm very tired," Malik murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of Altaïr's ear. "If you couldn't tell by the fact I've slept the entire day. But I’m hungry. And Desmond is waiting for us."
Altaïr sat up slowly, leaning against Malik's side and pressing his face into his neck. "Kadar is keeping him busy," he reported, lifting his head with a slight smile.
Malik returned the smile after a brief roll of his eyes, leaning forward to seal their mouths together in a warm kiss. Altaïr's response was immediate, and the hunger there almost startled Malik. It played second to the concern, though, the worry that Altaïr must have been harboring all day. Enough to let him sleep on him for hours, to miss work.
"I would still want you around even if I learned how to suck my own cock," Altaïr mumbled out as soon as Malik pulled back, licking his lips.
"Good to know," Malik responded, shoving Altaïr away in favor of standing. He grabbed his shirt from the desk chair, slipping into it and scratching over his stomach. "You mentioned something about soup?"
"Minestrone," Altaïr confirmed.
That had Malik's stomach rumbling happily, his interest peaked. He opened the door without another word to find Kadar and Desmond going through some plastic bags, putting things into the cabinets and fridge.
"I thought Ezio said Claudia would bring over something, not an entire kitchen," Malik commented, coming to sit at one of the stools by the island in the kitchen. Desmond came over to give him a brief hug and a kiss to the top of his head, brushed off with a slight grumble from Malik.
Desmond laughed. "Good to see you to, Mal. And yeah, I think she's ovulating because she's making a shit ton of food and acting very motherly." There was a heavy pause, Desmond wincing slightly before continuing with a grin. "I think it might be scarier than how she usually is."
(Malik/Altaïr, mpreg) Untitled, 1.i/?
"Ew!"
"Shut up!" Malik roared, to Altaïr or Malik it was unclear, before slamming the door to the bedroom shut hard enough to, ironically, send a picture of all four of them to the ground.
Malik must have dozed off once again, curled up in their bed with Altaïr's pillow on the floor, because the next time he looked at the clock it was nearly an hour later and Altaïr was coming into the room.
"Desmond's here," he informed, shutting the door behind himself and leaning against it as he stared at Malik. "So you want to stop being a bitch for five seconds and come say hi?"
Malik sighed out, a hand pressed to his forehead as he sat up and glared at Altaïr. "You're being a bitch," he mumbled, not the most clever thing he could have come up with but he was working with little patience and a lot of headache.
Altaïr's sigh was a tired one, walking the short distance to their bed. He paused on the way to pick up his pillow, eyes narrowing to Malik but apparently decided against opening another can of worms when Malik narrowed his eyes back at him. He placed the pillow on the bed before laying down, settling his head into Malik's lap warmly.
Malik wanted to protest. Maybe punch him in the nose. But Altaïr was right--he was being a bitch. They both were. Probably because they didn't know any other way to be with each other.
"You feeling any better?" Altaïr asked, his eyes fluttering shut as Malik began cording his fingers through his hair. It was getting longer with the winter months, brushing against the tops of his ears. There seemed to be an ever present stubble along Altaïr's jaw, as well, a tired look to his golden eyes. Malik still thought him to be the most handsome man he'd ever seen, though.
"I'm very tired," Malik murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of Altaïr's ear. "If you couldn't tell by the fact I've slept the entire day. But I’m hungry. And Desmond is waiting for us."
Altaïr sat up slowly, leaning against Malik's side and pressing his face into his neck. "Kadar is keeping him busy," he reported, lifting his head with a slight smile.
Malik returned the smile after a brief roll of his eyes, leaning forward to seal their mouths together in a warm kiss. Altaïr's response was immediate, and the hunger there almost startled Malik. It played second to the concern, though, the worry that Altaïr must have been harboring all day. Enough to let him sleep on him for hours, to miss work.
"I would still want you around even if I learned how to suck my own cock," Altaïr mumbled out as soon as Malik pulled back, licking his lips.
"Good to know," Malik responded, shoving Altaïr away in favor of standing. He grabbed his shirt from the desk chair, slipping into it and scratching over his stomach. "You mentioned something about soup?"
"Minestrone," Altaïr confirmed.
That had Malik's stomach rumbling happily, his interest peaked. He opened the door without another word to find Kadar and Desmond going through some plastic bags, putting things into the cabinets and fridge.
"I thought Ezio said Claudia would bring over something, not an entire kitchen," Malik commented, coming to sit at one of the stools by the island in the kitchen. Desmond came over to give him a brief hug and a kiss to the top of his head, brushed off with a slight grumble from Malik.
Desmond laughed. "Good to see you to, Mal. And yeah, I think she's ovulating because she's making a shit ton of food and acting very motherly." There was a heavy pause, Desmond wincing slightly before continuing with a grin. "I think it might be scarier than how she usually is."