Altair gave a short huff of half a laugh, "What makes you think there's anything wrong?" he asked as Malik shoved the falafel into his mouth.
"I didn't say wrong," Malik said after quickly chewing and swallowing. "I just asked what is it? You've been staring at me."
"Well, for starters," Altair said and reached across the distance, "you have some sauce on your face, very attractive," and he wiped the falafel sauce off with his thumb. Malik watched the path of his thumb as it pulled away from the corner of his mouth and traveled to between Altair's own lips. Malik just gave him a look, "But," he continued his lips smacking slightly as he pulled he thumb from his mouth and wiped it across his napkin, "I need a reason to look at you now?"
"Look, no. Stare, yes."
"And whose to say I'm not just struck by how good you look?" Altair smirked and that's when Malik felt heat rise into his cheeks.
He rolled his eyes regardless of what the rest of his face was doing however. "Oh please," he huffed putting his fork down.
Altair's smirk fell away reveal something resembling a frown. For a second Malik wanted to take back his words. He wasn't very used to being noticed for reasons other than the fact that he only had one arm, it was what people who didn't know him tended to focus on since it was so obvious. Thus he didn't take comments, even good ones, about his looks with anything less than skepticism since usually people spoke well of him out of pity. Of course he knew Altair knew better than to even attempt to pity him. "Okay, you're right. There is something," Altair said, still frowning. He reached out and covered Malik's hand with his own, Malik in turn twisted his hand so that their fingers laced together and Altair's amber eyes brightened a bit. "I'm sorry."
Malik blinked, "For what?" he asked, brow furrowing.
"For taking so long," he said.
Malik snorted, well that was irony. He'd waited over a decade for a man he'd thought he'd wanted only for it not to work out. Seven months to wait for someone he didn't know he wanted seemed like time had barely passed. "I don't forgive you," Malik said and he saw something in Altair sort of... rip, was the only was to describe it. In the breath between his words Altair's fingers tightened around his own, "For there is nothing to forgive," and now it was Altair's turn to look puzzled. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sure I was annoyed you didn't call, but... I understand that you didn't."
Altair bowed his head and gave a short, dry chuckle before looking back up at Malik, eyes bright and warm. He brought the other man's knuckles up to his mouth and kissed them, "I am fairly sure I don't deserve you in any capacity," he said.
"Damn right you don't," Malik teased and Altair laughed, squeezing his hand again before letting him have it back. Malik just allowed himself a pleased smile as he picked up his spoon to scoop up the last of his pilaf.
—
They made it back to Malik's work almost half an hour after he was supposed to be back. Malik couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed as they walked from the T station, Altair having twisted his fingers firmly into Malik's when they'd been on the train, only seeming fit to let go when they debarked.
"You are going home now," Malik told Altair sort of sternly, he wasn't going to let Altair's anywhere near his work.
"I shall await you with baited breath," he said, gently bumping their shoulders together as they stood several feet to the side of the building entrance.
"Shut up," Malik said rolling his eyes, but he had a grin on his face.
Altair just smiled brightly at him, "Have a good rest of the day at your boring desk job," he teased and bumped into Malik again, this time so that their lips brushed.
"Well not everyone can have an exciting job like you Mr. Assassin," Malik teased softly and Altair seemed to appreciate the humor. "Don't kill anyone on the way home," he added.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (77?)
"I didn't say wrong," Malik said after quickly chewing and swallowing. "I just asked what is it? You've been staring at me."
"Well, for starters," Altair said and reached across the distance, "you have some sauce on your face, very attractive," and he wiped the falafel sauce off with his thumb. Malik watched the path of his thumb as it pulled away from the corner of his mouth and traveled to between Altair's own lips. Malik just gave him a look, "But," he continued his lips smacking slightly as he pulled he thumb from his mouth and wiped it across his napkin, "I need a reason to look at you now?"
"Look, no. Stare, yes."
"And whose to say I'm not just struck by how good you look?" Altair smirked and that's when Malik felt heat rise into his cheeks.
He rolled his eyes regardless of what the rest of his face was doing however. "Oh please," he huffed putting his fork down.
Altair's smirk fell away reveal something resembling a frown. For a second Malik wanted to take back his words. He wasn't very used to being noticed for reasons other than the fact that he only had one arm, it was what people who didn't know him tended to focus on since it was so obvious. Thus he didn't take comments, even good ones, about his looks with anything less than skepticism since usually people spoke well of him out of pity. Of course he knew Altair knew better than to even attempt to pity him. "Okay, you're right. There is something," Altair said, still frowning. He reached out and covered Malik's hand with his own, Malik in turn twisted his hand so that their fingers laced together and Altair's amber eyes brightened a bit. "I'm sorry."
Malik blinked, "For what?" he asked, brow furrowing.
"For taking so long," he said.
Malik snorted, well that was irony. He'd waited over a decade for a man he'd thought he'd wanted only for it not to work out. Seven months to wait for someone he didn't know he wanted seemed like time had barely passed. "I don't forgive you," Malik said and he saw something in Altair sort of... rip, was the only was to describe it. In the breath between his words Altair's fingers tightened around his own, "For there is nothing to forgive," and now it was Altair's turn to look puzzled. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sure I was annoyed you didn't call, but... I understand that you didn't."
Altair bowed his head and gave a short, dry chuckle before looking back up at Malik, eyes bright and warm. He brought the other man's knuckles up to his mouth and kissed them, "I am fairly sure I don't deserve you in any capacity," he said.
"Damn right you don't," Malik teased and Altair laughed, squeezing his hand again before letting him have it back. Malik just allowed himself a pleased smile as he picked up his spoon to scoop up the last of his pilaf.
—
They made it back to Malik's work almost half an hour after he was supposed to be back. Malik couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed as they walked from the T station, Altair having twisted his fingers firmly into Malik's when they'd been on the train, only seeming fit to let go when they debarked.
"You are going home now," Malik told Altair sort of sternly, he wasn't going to let Altair's anywhere near his work.
"I shall await you with baited breath," he said, gently bumping their shoulders together as they stood several feet to the side of the building entrance.
"Shut up," Malik said rolling his eyes, but he had a grin on his face.
Altair just smiled brightly at him, "Have a good rest of the day at your boring desk job," he teased and bumped into Malik again, this time so that their lips brushed.
"Well not everyone can have an exciting job like you Mr. Assassin," Malik teased softly and Altair seemed to appreciate the humor. "Don't kill anyone on the way home," he added.