“He’ll get them back, obviously,” and Altair was sitting right in front of him again.
“I know but did you have to do that? He practically lives on his phone.”
“I thought it was adequate punishment,” Altair said firmly. “Besides, it got me two weeks of you all to myself,” and he leaned forward, kissing him, and Malik didn’t stop him. He forgot what it was really like to be kissed like this, fully and without the hesitation Ezio had, or the brief moments they’d kissed while Altair had lived on his couch. He parted his lips when Altair pressed his tongue forward and groaned a little as he licked his way inside his mouth. They just stayed there for a good while, and Malik didn’t worry about what Altair had or hadn’t done to Ezio because he couldn’t think about it with Altair’s mouth against him and the taste of greasy pizzeria food on his tongue.
Altair kissed his lower lip when they came up for air and Malik felt warmer than he had been before. He could probably do this all night, and he didn’t have work in the morning… but the T would stop running soon. He tipped his head down to avoid Altair’s persistent lips to say, “We should probably be getting home,” he said.
“Mhmm,” was all Altair said and Malik wondered when Altair’s arm had found it’s way around his waist, he honestly could say he couldn’t remember.
“Really,” Malik implored, “The T is going to stop running, and I don’t feel like walking—” he was cut off briefly when Altair kissed him again, “walking all the way back to Cambridge,” he blurted out the rest once he was free of Altair’s mouth.
Altair pulled away, “Okay,” he sighed and Malik would be the first to admit he hadn’t wanted to stop, not really. Still it was cold out and the weathermen had been threatening the entire river basin with snow since Wednesday. They got off the ledge and Altair picked up the half empty pizza box and they walked down from the roof. Altair left the box with the garbage on the curb and Malik pulled him towards Haymarket station.
When they got there Altair just jumped right over the automatic barriers even while Malik snapped at him about it and paid his own fare. Altair just grinned back at him and waited till he’d gotten to the proper side of the barriers. He snatched up Malik’s hand as they walked to the platform and waited for the train. A train ride and an experience through Park station (that station was always a bit of a mess to navigate, even for natives) they were on their way to Cambridge. Their train was practically empty except for some college kids bundled up against the cold and they got off at the Harvard stop. Altair had his head against Malik’s shoulder as they rode, both their hands in his lap, so tangled up it was difficult to distinguish one set of fingers from the other’s.
They got off at the Porter stop and walked the few blocks from the T station to Malik’s apartment on Cedar during which Malik asked Altair how he knew where they’d be for the pizza guy to deliver since he never saw Altair actually take out his phone. Altair just claimed it was his secret assassin mojo and that made Malik laugh.
There was a familiar car in front of Malik’s building as they neared it. Malik frowned at it in confusion and Altair’s grip on his hand tightened to almost painful. That was Ezio’s car. What was Ezio doing here this late at night? Maybe not totally unfamiliar, as Ezio often showed up at all hours of the waking day, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since their break up.
The outer door opened and the familiar sight of Ezio in his thick wool coat that hung down by his knees was framed in the doorway. “Malik!” he cried and jumped down from the stoop, Malik did his best not to wince, remembering how Kadar had broken his arm doing that when there was snow on the ground.
“Hey,” Malik said as Ezio came up to them and he caught the tight tension between the cousins instantly as they both seemed to refuse to ackoweledge each other’s existence. He was surprised by this, but also by Ezio’s attitude, he expected the Italian to be more stand-offish or grouchy about what had happened.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (81/?)
“He’ll get them back, obviously,” and Altair was sitting right in front of him again.
“I know but did you have to do that? He practically lives on his phone.”
“I thought it was adequate punishment,” Altair said firmly. “Besides, it got me two weeks of you all to myself,” and he leaned forward, kissing him, and Malik didn’t stop him. He forgot what it was really like to be kissed like this, fully and without the hesitation Ezio had, or the brief moments they’d kissed while Altair had lived on his couch. He parted his lips when Altair pressed his tongue forward and groaned a little as he licked his way inside his mouth. They just stayed there for a good while, and Malik didn’t worry about what Altair had or hadn’t done to Ezio because he couldn’t think about it with Altair’s mouth against him and the taste of greasy pizzeria food on his tongue.
Altair kissed his lower lip when they came up for air and Malik felt warmer than he had been before. He could probably do this all night, and he didn’t have work in the morning… but the T would stop running soon. He tipped his head down to avoid Altair’s persistent lips to say, “We should probably be getting home,” he said.
“Mhmm,” was all Altair said and Malik wondered when Altair’s arm had found it’s way around his waist, he honestly could say he couldn’t remember.
“Really,” Malik implored, “The T is going to stop running, and I don’t feel like walking—” he was cut off briefly when Altair kissed him again, “walking all the way back to Cambridge,” he blurted out the rest once he was free of Altair’s mouth.
Altair pulled away, “Okay,” he sighed and Malik would be the first to admit he hadn’t wanted to stop, not really. Still it was cold out and the weathermen had been threatening the entire river basin with snow since Wednesday. They got off the ledge and Altair picked up the half empty pizza box and they walked down from the roof. Altair left the box with the garbage on the curb and Malik pulled him towards Haymarket station.
When they got there Altair just jumped right over the automatic barriers even while Malik snapped at him about it and paid his own fare. Altair just grinned back at him and waited till he’d gotten to the proper side of the barriers. He snatched up Malik’s hand as they walked to the platform and waited for the train. A train ride and an experience through Park station (that station was always a bit of a mess to navigate, even for natives) they were on their way to Cambridge. Their train was practically empty except for some college kids bundled up against the cold and they got off at the Harvard stop. Altair had his head against Malik’s shoulder as they rode, both their hands in his lap, so tangled up it was difficult to distinguish one set of fingers from the other’s.
They got off at the Porter stop and walked the few blocks from the T station to Malik’s apartment on Cedar during which Malik asked Altair how he knew where they’d be for the pizza guy to deliver since he never saw Altair actually take out his phone. Altair just claimed it was his secret assassin mojo and that made Malik laugh.
There was a familiar car in front of Malik’s building as they neared it. Malik frowned at it in confusion and Altair’s grip on his hand tightened to almost painful. That was Ezio’s car. What was Ezio doing here this late at night? Maybe not totally unfamiliar, as Ezio often showed up at all hours of the waking day, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since their break up.
The outer door opened and the familiar sight of Ezio in his thick wool coat that hung down by his knees was framed in the doorway. “Malik!” he cried and jumped down from the stoop, Malik did his best not to wince, remembering how Kadar had broken his arm doing that when there was snow on the ground.
“Hey,” Malik said as Ezio came up to them and he caught the tight tension between the cousins instantly as they both seemed to refuse to ackoweledge each other’s existence. He was surprised by this, but also by Ezio’s attitude, he expected the Italian to be more stand-offish or grouchy about what had happened.