asscreedkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
Entry tags:
Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]
We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.
Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.
There are no request in this part of the meme.
List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Discussion
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (74?)
‘Don’t make lunch plans.’
Malik squinted at the phone. His lunch break started in about ten minutes.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m about five minutes away from your building.’
‘What did you do to Kadar?’
‘What makes you think I did anything.’
‘He wouldn’t just volunteer where I work.’
‘He so did. Own free will and everything. I didn’t even have to show him my knife,’ he knew Altair was being sarcastic but that didn’t mean it annoyed Malik any less.
‘What are you planning?’
‘I’m not planning anything. Why do I have to be planning anything? Do I honestly look like the kind of guy that plans things?’ Malik was in the process of a short three letter word response when another message popped up: ‘Don’t answer that.’ And he snorted. Then, ‘I’m taking you out to lunch. Happy? Now you know my plan. I’m such a grand schemer aren’t I?’
‘You’re a fucking ham is what you are?’
‘A what? Gross.’
‘Figure of speech imbecile.’
‘Why would you call someone something as dirty as part of a pig…. Are you calling me a pig Malik?’
Malik had to press a hand over his mouth to not laugh. As it was Rauf just sent him a look from over their wall. ‘No. I’m not. Don’t be so juvenile.’
‘Whatever. I’m standing in front of your building right now.’
“Hey Mal,” Rauf said and Malik looked up. “Lunch?”
“Uh… no thanks,” Malik said.
Rauf rose a brow, “Why not? We always go out to lunch-
“Got plan. Just came up. Sorry,” he said and knew he could ditch for his lunch break a few minutes early so saved all his data, put his machine to sleep, grabbed his stuff and left the floor. Rauf and Ugo both watched him go, brows furrowed curiously but he didn’t give a crap about them.
He got downstairs and out the lobby before most people had and looked around surreptitiously. Then he felt something come up on his left side. He turned to look; no one. When he faced back front Altair was standing there with a cheerful smirk on his smug mug. Malik jumped, a bit startled. “Hello,” Altair said.
Malik grabbed his chest, “Fuck Altair,” he growled, “Do not sneak up on me you ass.”
“I thought I was a pig. First a pig, now an ass. What’s next Malik? Going to go through the entire menagerie for your insults,” he said in a cheeky way, not actually insulted. Malik rolled his eyes. “C’mon,” and without asking grabbed Malik’s hand.
“Where are we going?” Malik asked. “Also, you said you were taking me to lunch. Where the hell you get the money for that, or your phone?”
Altair rolled his eyes at Malik, “You forget who I’m related to, obviously. That’s the only reason you would ask such a dumb question,” Altair stated. Malik was about to say he wasn’t stupid when Altair himself had said that his aunt and uncle didn’t even know he was here. He didn’t get the change to. “That and they don’t just send us places without being able to pay for things. All cash.”
“Great. How dirty is this money?” he asked with a roll of his eyes.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (75?)
“Okay okay, fine, where are we going than Mr. Squeaky Clean?”
“Surprise,” Altair said and they stopped at a T station.
“Not even a hint?”
“Nope.”
“C’mon, just one?”
“You’ll like it.”
“Well that’s no hint at all,” Malik huffed.
“You ever had traditional food?” he asked.
“What sort of-
The train came up to the stop, the bell dinging and breaks screeching. Altair pulled him onto the train and ran his ticket through the machine twice. They managed to find seats before the lunch rush truly set in.
“Now c’mon, hint,” Malik said sternly.
“Who makes the best Lebanese food?” he asked.
“Huh? What sort of hint is that?” Malik narrowed his eyes, Altair laughed.
“The only one you’re getting.”
“Jerk.”
“Maybe a little,” Altair admitted and leaned around the upright bar that separated their seats and pressed his lips to Malik’s cheek.
“It better not be far.”
“Brighton.”
“Altair,” he groaned. “You’re dragging me all the way to Brighton?”
“Shush,” he scolded. “You only get one chance to do anything. So why not take all those chances to do something great every time?”
“Altair my break is only for an hour.”
“So you go over a bit one day. Live a little,” and he nudged Malik in the ribs with his elbow. Malik just sighed and rolled his eyes upward but didn’t complain further.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (75?)
(Anonymous) 2011-09-27 07:10 am (UTC)(link)Made my freaking day. Thank you.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (75?)
(Anonymous) 2011-09-28 05:15 am (UTC)(link)Re: Altered Flight Pattern (76?)
—
The sign was a cheerful yellow color and the words Garlic and Lemons is printed in slightly curling letters across it. Harvard Ave is busy, full of college students (but what street in Boston isn't during the lunch hours?) and business men and women. Altair tugs him inside and the first thing Malik recognizes is the smell. It smells like his mother's kitchen. There are four large slabs of meat on carousels, slowly turning in front of a low burning gas heater. It smells like garlic, lemons, more spices than Malik can name and meat. The walls are the same almost obtrusive yellow color as the sign. It wasn't particularly busy though Malik wondered how long that would last.
"How the hell did you know this was here?" Malik asked as Altair dragged him over to where you ordered, almost cafeteria style.
"I have my ways," and Altair winked at him. There was a cute girl behind the glass separator. Altair spoke to her in a tongue Malik didn't know. Apparently the girl did though for she nodded and went back into the open kitchen. A man who had a great appreciation for food appeared in a chef's apron, a bit of a grease stain on the front. Altair threw up his arms and said something in an enthused voice. The chef apparently recognized him and replied in the same tone. Malik just watched with mild confusion as they talked, both grinning. Malik knew English, enough Arabic to hold a slow conversation and barely enough Spanish to know how to roll his Rs. What these two were going on in though wasn't any language Malik knew.
After sharing a bit more pleasantry the man pulled out two plates and began piling food onto then. Malik watched as meat, vegetables, falafel, rice and pita bread was stacked onto the various plates which multiplied before his eyes. Altair took half the plates, still chatting to the man in whatever language they were going on in, and motioned for Malik to take the others. He did so and Altair sat them down at one of the small tables.
"What the hell was that?" Malik hissed once Altair sat down after grabbing them both silverware and a Coke.
"What?"
"You know that guy?"
Altair smiled, "We're friends you could say, yes," Altair said his smile telling Malik he hadn't told the entire thing.
Malik opened his mouth to ask before he shut it. Malik really did /not/ want to know actually. Altair wasn't just a guy after all. He was an assassin with a very powerful uncle on top of that. Who knew who Altair knew or why. He went for a more appropriate question as Altair dug into one of the kebabs which dripped all sorts of delicious and bad for you fat, "What language was that?"
"Armenian," Altair said after swallowing.
"You speak Armenian?"
"I speak languages I need to know," Altair shrugged.
"But this is Lebanese food," Malik said looking down at his plate. Well really it could have come from anywhere in the Middle East but it said Lebanese on the sign.
"Remember my hint? Who makes the best Lebanese food? Answer; the Armenians," and he smirked. "That and its free. Don't look it in the mouth," and Altair pointer his fork at Malik's still untouched plate. Altair had a point. He mint not be a college kid but even he appreciated free food. Malik decided he might as well eat before it got cold. He sighed when he finally took a bite. It reminded him of his mother's cooking. Comfort food if there ever was any. Some people liked meatloaf and mashed potatoes for comfort food. Malik preferred falafel and pilaf. It reminded him of his mother and a time before he'd gone off to the Marines.
He felt Altair watching him though he never actually caught the other man looking even though Altair's cutlery never stopped moving, clacking against the porcelain. Malik did his best to ignore him though if he was trying to be sly about it.
As they were finishing their lunch though he grew a bit antsy. "What is it?" he asked his fork poised with a quarter of falafel on it, the green disc slathered on a white sauce.
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.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (77?)
He slumped into his chair with a sigh. Almost immediately Rauf poked his head over their divider. "Where the hell were you?"
"Lunch," Malik said in a grouchy, gruff tone. He really wanted Rauf to fuck off.
"With who?"
"A, what makes you think I was with anyone and B, if I was, what makes you think it's any of your business?" he growled. He didn't know why but he didn't want the others to know about Altair. At least not yet. He'd only broken up with Ezio a week ago, he didn't want to give them any wrong impressions that he was.... well at the very least kissing and going out to lunch with another guy. He wouldn't call them dating really since... he didn't know. He just didn't want them to know and he was damn well within his rights to do so.
"You're usually not late unless you're on a lunch with someone. Last time you were you and Daniel somehow were late by fifteen minutes on a damn sandwich run," Rauf said furrowing his brows.
"Oh shut up Rauf," Daniel growled from his cubical. "I didn't mean to make us late."
"And you still got my order wrong," Rauf added.
Daniel just made a wordless groan of annoyance, his words 'oh shut up' obvious. "What Daniel said, shut up Rauf," Malik said smartly. "None of your business."
"Uhg, you're killing me here Malik," Rauf groaned but did retreat back into his own little box. Malik turned back to his computer, ignoring any further comments from any of them.
--
We're so close to the end I can taste it! Just two or three more short scenes and yaaaaa!!
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (77?)
(Anonymous) 2011-10-09 06:12 am (UTC)(link)Re: Altered Flight Pattern (78?)
Malik came home to a surprise on Friday. Altair was there on the couch, not unusual, but his clothes were different and he wore a hooded sweatshirt. Malik had no idea where he’d gotten it. “Ah, you’re home,” Altair said looking behind him and got up from the couch.
Malik looked him over with a raised brow, “Going somewhere?” he asked noting Altair’s sneakers. He didn’t know where those had come from either.
“Maybe,” Altair smirked.
“Maybe isn’t an answer,” Malik informed him.
“It is for me.”
Malik sighed and rolled his eyes, “Just tell me what you’re doing.”
“Running.”
Well that sounded pretty simple and… boring. Altair didn’t do things that were boring, ever. “You mean free running,” Malik said. Altair nodded smugly. “You still have your stitches-
“Not anymore,” Altair continued smugly.
Malik blinked at him, “You took them out?”
“Yep, all by myself,” and Altair raised up part of his sweater and shirt to show where he had had stitches. The scar was pretty much healed over by now and Malik’s not so great stitching had left a bit of a jagged line on the skin. “Wanna come with?” Malik opened his mouth to say no, he was tired, “C’mon,” Altair said giving him his most pleading look that just made Malik annoyed because it was one of those looks he couldn’t say no to.
“Fine,” he said.
“Yes,” Altair beamed, “Go change,” and he pushed Malik towards his bedroom.
“You are so up to something,” Malik called over his shoulder, “Don’t think I don’t know!”
“I have nooooo idea what you’re talking about,” Altair said and when Malik glanced back over to him he saw Altair leaning against the front door, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Malik closed the door behind him pointedly and he heard Altair laugh.
Allowing himself a secret smile once the door was between him and the Syrian, he pulled off his work clothes, throwing them into the hamper and pulled on some more comfortable clothes that he could run in including sneakers which he rarely wore, if only because it was easier to just wear slip-ons. But real shoes were required for this sort of activity.
Altair was still waiting against the door when he came back out, his dark hood pulled up, “Ready,” Malik said. “Though you sure you want to go before dinner?”
“Work up an appetite,” Altair said looking up so Malik could see his grin and they way his eyes passed over Malik he wondered just what Altair meant for a moment. Malik felt a bit of heat rise up in his cheeks even as Altair turned away and opened the door. Malik followed after, locking the door and was in time to watch Altair jump off the stairs seven steps up, do a twist, and land facing him with his arms spread.
“Very clever, show off,” Malik said trying to sound unimpressed but failing. He walked down the steps normally after Altair who grabbed his hand and hauled him out the door and into the cold Boston evening.
—
It was much later when they finally stopped for the night. The air was sharp and cold against their skin, though they’d both ditched their longer clothes as they built up a sweat. The cold air felt good on Malik’s skin even if it sucked away his body heat and made him shiver a bit as he leaned against Altair. Though he shivered he wasn’t totally cold, his body was still running hot from their run and final climb up to the top of the building they’d found themselves on. He was pretty sure they were in the North End, as he could see the river in front of them and off to their right he could make out the distant lights of Logan International.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (79?)
He watched the delivery driver get back into his car and drive away. A minute later the roof door opened again. Malik turned around where he sat and saw Altair walking towards him with a few small boxes balanced on top of a large pizza box. He sat down next to Malik without dropping anything.
“You bought pizza,” Malik said staring at the food, his stomach liking the way it smelled very much.
“You’re very clever you know that,” Altair said setting the box on his lap. Malik refrained from shoving because Altair was holding the food and sitting on a ledge. Malik turned to face him, throwing one leg over the other side of the ledge so he straddled it. “I also got some other stuff,” and he handed Malik a styrofoam container. Malik opened it and just about drooled. mozzarella sticks. He stole one and found it was still crispy, it was so hard to get crispy mottz sticks on a delivery, they always were soggy it seemed. But not these. No these were crispy and fresh. The other two containers contained jalapeno poppers and french fries, both as crispy and hot as the mottz sticks. Malik’s stomach growled loudly. Altair laughed at him. “Want a slice?” and Altair opened the big pizza box.
“Who did you ask?” was all Malik said as he picked out a slice of vegetarian with (of all things) shrimp and garlic on it. One half was his favorite (that) and the other was just cheese with mushrooms and jalapenos on it.
“Kadar,” Altair said smugly. Malik hummed and bit into the pizza. It burned a bit but he didn’t care, he was starving. Altair helped himself to some french fries before attacking his own half of the pizza.
“Well for once I approve of him telling people my weird taste in food,” Malik said and Altair snorted. Malik let the pizza slice cool in the cold air for a moment or two before taking another bite. This time it was just cool enough and he groaned when he tore into the slice. He heard Altair cough and smack his chest, but was too focused on his food to pay much attention. “This is fucking delicious,” he added.
“Good,” Altair said approvingly, “Apparently it’s the best pizza in the neighborhood,” he’d already polished off his first slice and was moving in on the poppers. Malik quickly grabbed several and put them in his lap since he didn’t have any illusions that if he didn’t watch them they’d be gone before he got any. He’d learned Altair liked spicy foods since he’d started living on his couch, and after Malik introduced him to sriracha Altair put it on everything. So Altair ate the poppers like they were candy while Malik finished his slice.
They ate in silence, both pushing as much food into their mouths as quickly as possible. One because they were both hungry, and two to eat before it got cold. Once they’d emptied the smaller boxes of all the food and the pizza box of most of it’s contents and had pulled their coats back on, now able to feel the chill, they returned to just relaxing on the roof.
“What are you- oh,” Malik started as Altair moved away from him on the roof only to face away from him and lay his head right on Malik’s lap. Altair grinned up at him from where he was. Malik didn’t say anything, instead he reached out to brush his fingers through Altair’s dark brown hair. Altair closed his eyes, a content look on his face. Malik asked something he didn’t want to ask but needed to because he refused to be caught by surprise again, “When are you leaving again?”
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (79?)
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (80/?)
“On?”
“You.”
“About?”
“Do you want me to stay?”
Malik was silent for several seconds, “Yes,” he finally breathed. He sometimes hated that Altair could affect him so much, that he could become such a mess when the man was around. But on the other hand he had missed the thrill of it, the sense of adventure he’d only just been allowed a single swallow of during the spring. It had lit a fire back in him he’d forgotten he’d had, reminded him who he was. He didn’t want to go back to being that guy he’d been last year. He wanted to stay like how he was now, not fall back into that.
“Then I don’t plan on going anywhere,” he said firmly.
“Huh?” Malik was honestly surprised by that.
“I talked with my uncle before I left home for this assignment. He said if I wanted he’d talk to my father, convince him to transfer me to America permanently,” he said.
Malik tried not to think too hard about what he’d just said, transfer and what that had to mean, that whatever Altair was a part of was bigger than he probably wanted to understand. “He could do that?”
“My uncle and father get along very well,” Altair said, “same coin, opposite sides,” the wording for the analogy was off but Malik understood. “He will say he needs someone skilled over here to keep things secure, someone like me, and since I am already here he won’t have to send someone else. My father will argue, say I should be there with him and then Giovanni will say it would be good if I learned how his side of the business was run too. My father will consent to a point,” he smirked a little. “And even if they can’t, well,” he chuckled here, “Aunt Maria and her sister will make him see reason.” In that moment Malik felt pity for Altair’s father, who he’d only met once. But it was enough. He’d married Maria’s sister who was every bit of the fiery Italian her older sister was. If they started to work on someone he doubted they’d last very long. Maria he knew had a way with words and he could only imagine her sister was the same way.
Malik chuckled and ruffled his hair, “I can’t imagine anyone denying Maria or her sister anything,” he said.
“Nope,” Altair grinned smugly. “So I won’t leave again… well,” he made a bit of a face, “Other than work related times and-
They both looked at Malik’s pocket when his phone started to ring. Malik cursed and Altair frowned as he fished it from his pocket. “Hello?” he asked not even glancing at who it was from.
“I’m going to take that phone apart one day since it always goes off at the worst time,” Altair said and Malik shushed him with an irritant look on his face.
“Is this Malik?”
Malik blinked, “Ezio?” he asked, “Of course this is Malik,” he frowned.
“Thank goodness. You wouldn’t beleive how hard it is to get in touch with you when you don’t have anyone else’s-
“Hey!” Malik yelped when Altair sat up and snatched the phone from him. “Altair what are you doing-” he shut up at the look Altair gave him, unable to continue at the dark glance.
“Ezio,” Altair said lowly and turned away, then he said something in Italian and Malik really couldn’t follow. He sighed then Altair hung up the phone.
“Going to tell me what that was about?” Malik asked, hand out for his phone.
“No,” he said and handed it back, “He just knows better.”
Malik rolled his eyes, “I haven’t talked to him in almost two weeks,” he said.
“Good, maybe he’s not such an idiot anymore,” Altair grumbled.
Malik stared at him a moment, “What did you do?” he knew Altair had done something.
Altair gave him a slightly wary look, “I don’t think you want to know,” he was told.
“Altair-
“Really Malik, I didn’t do anything as bad as Ezio did,” he interuppted. “And I don’t want to tell you because you don’t deserve to know that my cousin is a bigger dick than you think,” he said lowly.
“You have something to do with why no one has talked to Ezio in a few weeks?”
“I… maybe sort of deleted all the contacts from his phone,” Altair said innocently. Malik pressed his hand to his face with a sigh.
--
am I don't yet? Uuuuuhg. I'm ready to put this story to bed, just so I can say it's over.
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.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (82/?)
“Sure,” Malik said easily.
Finally Ezio seemed to at least show he knew Altair was there, his eyes flicking to him for an instant, “Alone?”
“Yeah, of course,” and he pulled his hand out of Altair’s, “I’ll see you upstairs,” he told Altair, who just nodded mutely. He was caught off guard when Altair kissed him suddenly, a swift thing that made his heart jump into his throat. Then it was gone, as quickly as it came, and Altair was walking up the stairs to the door. When he focused back on Ezio he saw the man glaring after his cousin. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“You could say,” Ezio said, turning away and looking at Malik. He looked… hurt. Malik refused to feel bad though, just refused, since he’d been hurt plenty in his friendship with Ezio as well as dating him where he thought even his fantasies were betraying him. “Look Malik, I’m sorry,” he said, “What happened on Halloween-
Malik waved him away, “I wrote it off,” he said, frankly with Altair showing up that same night he’d sort of forgotten about their fight and the party. That night belonged to Altair and his stupid fucking gunshot wound.
“Oh,” Ezio frowned. There was a strange silence that Malik recognized as Ezio working up to whatever he really was here to say, and Malik was content to just wait him out. “So then you aren’t mad at me?”
“No,” Malik said and put his hand in his pocket, he was cold out here now that he wasn’t moving around. “Are you?”
“…No,” Ezio admitted, “But just… you rebounded pretty quick,” he said sadly. Malik was about to explain himself, he didn’t even know how he was going to do that, when Ezio spoke up again, “I wanted to know though, if you knew.”
“Knew?” Malik rose a brow at him.
“About what Altair does.”
“I do,” Malik said calmly.
Ezio seemed shocked by that, “He told you?” Malik nodded. “He told you, and you’re still with him?” now he seemed… maybe not disgusted, but grossly surprised.
“It’s no worse than what I’ve done,” Malik said.
“Malik, I don’t think you understand. Altair enjoys it,” Ezio said in practically a hiss and that actually stopped whatever Malik would have said there. “I bet he didn’t tell you that. I told you, way back in spring, my family is crazy. I meant it,” he said seriously. “Malik?” he asked when Malik didn’t answer or move for a long time, just stared at him.
Malik had just stopped at that comment. That Altair might actually enjoy his work, and from the way Ezio had said it, enjoyed it like enjoyed killing people. Malik wasn’t going to hold a lofty, peaceful, desire over Altair’s head since he couldn’t throw stones. He was ex-military, he’d shot people, he’d killed people, and animals. Hell he’d destroyed buildings and had seen entire villages go up in fire because an incompetent officer had called in a pair of zoomies to bomb it to kingdom come. He couldn’t and wouldn’t fault Altair for doing his job, because that’s what it was, a job, and if he was good at it so what? Malik had been good at his job too. But he idea that Altair could enjoy his blood work hadn’t even occurred to him.
He flinched when Ezio touched him and jerked away as though burned. “Malik?” Ezio asked again.
He didn’t want to believe what Ezio said, in fact, he had no reason to in the first place seeing as how Ezio was suddenly just throwing this in his face. “I don’t believe you,” he said.
Ezio had a sort of dark look on his face then, “Maybe you should ask him,” he suggested.
“I will, right now,” and he shoved right past Ezio. He wasn’t surprised to see Altair was sitting at the top of the first set of stairs. He honestly hadn’t expected him to leave with the weird air that had been between the two earlier.
“Everything all right?” Altair asked and pulled his hood down as Malik walked up a few steps so he was eye level with Altair sitting at the top.
“I don’t care if you kill people,” Malik told him, “Just please don’t tell me you like it.”
Altair blinked slowly at him, surprised, and maybe confused by what he’d said. “I do what I have to and that’s it,” he said and now that there was that little worm of doubt Malik wondered if he was telling the truth.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
“Malik, I have never lied to you,” Altair said standing and walking down the few steps till he stood just one above him.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” Altair said softly.
“So you don’t like it, killing I mean,” Malik said now feeling awkward he’d let what Ezio said effect him so much. He couldn’t help it, seeing as how he’d known Ezio for so long.
“I like the sneaking part maybe, getting close to a target. But killing? No,” he said, then his eyes grew hard, “Did Ezio tell you that?” Malik just nodded. Altair gently pushed Malik out of the way and walked out the building. Malik had a terrible feeling about this and followed after him as Altair quickly moved down the steps and he was just in time to see Altair hit Ezio so hard the younger man went down like a sack of bricks.
“You fucking psychopath!” Ezio yelled from the ground, hand clutching his face.
“I fucking warned you Ezio,” Altair spat at him, looming over his cousin angrily, his entire back tight with rage. “You are testing my patience on this. Give it up.”
Ezio glared defiantly at Altair and then caught sight of Malik standing on the stairs still, wide-eyed, shocked Altair would actually punch Ezio. The two might have seemed tense earlier, but they’d seemed to get along so well before. Somehow he knew he’d missed something. Altair saw where Ezio looked and turned to look at Malik as well. “See Malik, I told you,” and Ezio pointed at Altair furiously.
“Told him what? Another lie?” Altair snarled. “That’s all you do, Ezio, lie,” and he grabbed his cousin up by his lapels and hauled him to his feet. “You’re a petty lier who tries to break things when he doesn’t get what he wants,” and he shook Ezio a little. Malik was still too shocked to see either of them like this to stop them.
“Fuck you Altair,” and Malik’s eyes widened when Ezio sent a kick at Altair. His boot connected with Altair’s shin and the Syrian let him go. Ezio then tried to punch him. Perhaps not the smartest idea as Altair grabbed his fist and before Malik quite knew what was happening he had Ezio on the ground again, this time Ezio on his stomach, his arm wedged up against his back as Altair pinned him to the ground.
“Don’t ever do that again Ezio,” he growled and Ezio whimpered in pain as Altair bent his arm hard.
That snapped Malik out of his stunned state. Ezio was still his friend, a very old friend, and Altair was hurting him. He went right over to the two and shoved Altair off the younger man to the ground. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped at Altair, who seemed surprised Malik would do that.
“Ow, fuck,” Ezio groaned pathetically.
“Oh shut up Ezio, I did not hurt you that much,” Altair rolled his eyes at his cousin his accent slipping in more than usual, mangling his words up.
“What is wrong with you?” Malik asked Altair again, staring at him.
“What’s wrong with me? Ask Ezio that!”
“He’s not the one throwing punches-
“Did you not see that one just now?” Altair demanded.
“Unprovoked,” Malik finished.
“Oh I was plenty provoked,” Altair growled. “I can’t stand liars, and Ezio here has done nothing but that to you for a long ass time. He deserved that punch, and more,” he glared at his cousin.
Malik turned to Ezio, who was sitting up now and working his arm, an uncomfortable look on his face. “What’s he talking about?” he asked his friend.
“Beats me- hey!”
“Stop fucking lying,” Altair snarled after smacking Ezio, hard, on the shoulder. “If you want to be like me at least be man enough to tell the truth.”
“Ezio?”
Ezio said nothing, Altair made a disgusted huff and stood up. “Pathetic,” he said lowly.
“Then you tell me,” Malik turned to Altair.
“Nope. This is his own can of worms, he can open it and get it over with or sit and eat it himself. Not my fucking problem,” and Altair’s eyes narrowed with dislike. Malik frowned. He sent one last look at Ezio, said something in Italian, and stalked into the apartment building.
“Ezio?” Malik asked gently.
“It’s nothing,” Ezio said softly and looked away, looking defeated.
“You can tell me,” he said.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
Malik frowned, “I could never hate you Ezio,” Malik told him and Ezio got to his feet as well.
“Of course,” and Malik wasn’t sure that had even been the right thing to say. The words seemed to have… twisted something inside Ezio. Something fragile and Malik didn’t even know where to begin in trying to fix it. “Look, forget I said anything,” he said quietly. “I just… I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything,” he said and leaned over and kissed Malik on the cheek before going to his car and getting into the driver’s seat. Malik watched him drive away before, more than a little confused, went into his building. Altair was no where in sight when he went into his apartment but the hall bathroom door was closed and he could hear running water. He frowned and went into his own room, locking it and taking his own shower.
As he left the shower there was a soft knock on his door. He opened it and it was his brother. “Hey,” he said, standing in just his pajama pants.
“Did something happen?” Kadar asked, still in his day clothes and unlike everyone Malik had ever met didn’t look at the scarring on his left arm. Of course not, Kadar was his brother.
“Why?”
“I heard something from the bathroom, it sounded like someone had punched a wall.”
Malik frowned, “It’s fine, Altair and Ezio just… had a stupid argument.”
“Oh,” that made Kadar’s brows furrow. “Bad?”
“Just stupid,” Malik shook his head.
“Okay,” Kadar said, “Well, that was all, g’night,” and he left to head to his own room as the bathroom door opened and Altair stepped out amid a small cloud of steam. His skin was bright red from the heat of the water and when he stepped out he looked over at Malik. Malik motioned to him and Altair came over.
“Everything all right?” he asked him the same thing Kadar had just wanted to know.
“Yes,” Altair said, he didn’t sound so tight as before. “I’m sorry about earlier. He just pisses me off,” Altair growled a little.
“Why?”
Altair bit the inside of his cheek, then sighed, “It’s his own problem. I don’t air other people’s dirty laundry,” he said.
“Oh,” Malik nodded, he could appreciate that. “I thought you two got along better than that.”
“Usually yes. But like I said, I hate liars,” Altair said, “when he mans up to what he did, I’ll forgive him.”
“Was what he did so bad?”
Altair looked strait at him, “Yes,” he said with such seriousness that Malik didn’t question him further. “Very much yes,” and he reached out and cupped Malik’s jaw. Malik swallowed just before Altair kissed him gently. He felt hot against Malik’s skin, still hot from his shower, and damp, like Malik was. Malik grabbed him by the front of his soft shirt and pulled him close.
“Would I forgive him for it?” he asked when they broke apart.
“Probably,” Altair admitted, “It’s just him being shallow.”
“Then I’m not going to worry too much about it,” Malik informed him. Altair nodded with a hum and kissed him again. “Bed?’ he asked.
“Yeah, I’m tired,” and Altair made to pull away.
“No, I mean, bed?” and Malik’s eyes flicked to his bed.
“Oh,” understanding dawned in Altair’s eyes. “Yes,” and he let Malik pull him into his bedroom. The door closed solidly behind them.
--
Welp, almost done. Not that it seems to matter. Fuck it's like I'm talking to myself here! This fandom totally knows how to make it's writers feel loved /only sort of bitter about lack of any sort of enthusiasm
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-09 08:05 am (UTC)(link)8;u this story makes my day/week/life when it is updated!!!! Seriously!
I always read it on my phone and it is hard to capcha on iPhone DX
I really love this story and all your characterizations, your pacing is fantastic, and the mood feels personal, very pleasantly realistic. Something you never get in fics.
I would kill to have you as an rp partner!
I love your story and thank you muchly for sticking to it, I recently had back surgery and this helps me pass some of the time.
<3kzanon
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-09 08:15 am (UTC)(link)I feel a little lost on actually commenting on this one, as this story is one of the ones I was gonna wait on and read all in one go - mostly because it didn't look like it was gonna end any time soon. I tend to do this for really long fics, just the way I read. Sorry. I have it bookmarked, and have just been keeping an eye on your segments for when it finishes. Sorry for not commenting earlier on the parts I have read, I prefer to do a full review at the end. I felt that you should at least know why I haven't said anything until now. Probably spoiled something for myself by reading these last segments, but you don't seem really happy about the lack of comments. Not that I blame you on that, I normally don't get any reviews on my fics.
It looks like Ezio is having some sort of crisis (and is jealous of Altair/Malik) while Altair and Malik have are getting used to each other and their quirks. (Is this right? IDEK anymore.)
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-09 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)Sorry for not commenting more on the updates, I love this fic dearly, but anything I can say just feels so inadequate compared to the amount of work and effort you put into writting this!
But I really like your straightforward Altair. And I can't even object to your characterization of Ezio as petty and revengeful, since he does possess many disagreeable qualities alongside his good ones. Selfishness, most of all.
And I love how thoroughly you've written the whole process of Malik sorting out his feelings. It really makes you feel for the character!
Reading this story is a real pleasure, so thank you for not abandoning it for one reason or another!
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-19 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)I love your take on the characters. I LOVE the way you write Malik processing his feelings, and the depth you create. Keep up the amazing work!
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (84/?)
‘Who else would it be? Hey’
‘Fuck I dunno, Altair stole the phone from you last time’
‘Key word being ‘stole’’ ‘What is it?’
‘Is it bad I wanted to apologize again?’
‘Fooor?’
‘… He didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Fuck, nevermind’
‘…’ ‘Now you have to tell me’
‘Nope’
‘C’mon ezio don’t be a dick’ ‘ezio?’ ‘ezio?’ ‘ezio?’ ‘Damnit ezio don’t fucking screen my text messages!’
‘Does Altair have a cellphone?’ ‘Sorry I was screening your messages, I was waiting till you weren’t mad’
‘He does’
‘Texting?’
‘Yes’
‘Give me his number’
‘Why don’t you ask someone else?’
‘No one else has his number, obviously. Like my cousin gives it out to just anyone’
‘He’s your cousin’
‘Yeah and he also punched me in the face the other day. I’m not on his short list of people he likes right now’
‘Why do you assume I have it?’
‘Should I really honor that qystion with a real responce?’
‘You can’t see me, but I;m rolling my eyes so hard right now’ ‘Fine, it’s 614-872-1073’
‘Thanks’
‘Don’t thank me’
‘Why?’
‘Should I really homor that question with a real respnce?’
‘… Fair enough’ ‘Also, I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah okay whatever it’s about as bad as rauf apologizing to me, stop it, you know I hate mopers’
‘kk’
‘Never send me that message again or I’ll be the pne punching you next time I see you’
‘HA! No you would’t, my face is too pretty for that’
‘Try me’
‘kk’
‘You’re like a five year old’
‘Hey also, get together at my place this weekend. Coming?’
‘For?’
‘Hockey’
‘Sure’
‘Don’t bring Altair’
‘Fine’
‘Thanks’
‘I’m doing it for his sake, not yours. He wouldn’t know what was going on’
‘Not because he would punch me again?’
‘Not if I was there he wouldn’t’ ‘So I’ll see you then’
‘Yeah’
—
‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’ ‘Altair’
‘Who the fuck is this and how did you get my number and how do you know my name!?’
‘It’s Ezio’
‘And for about five seconds I thought it was someone important’
‘Ha ha very funny Altair’
‘What do you want copycat?’
‘Thanks’
‘Fuck you, don’t send me a message again until you stop being a scared copy cat and man up to your mistakes.’
‘You don’t have to be so harsh you know’ ‘You’re still my cousin’ ‘Altair c’mon I’m trying to make nice’ ‘Malik told me to so I am, cause he’s my friend’ ‘I know you’re reading these because you’re too anal not to’ ‘Will you at least agree to not punch me in the face again the next time you see me?’ ‘I take that as a no’ ‘Why are you being so difficult right now’ ‘Malik said he forgave me so I don’t know why you have your underwear in a knot. Just stop being a dick okay?’ ‘I’m seriously about the punching thing btw’
—
Malik rose his brows at Altair as he watched the other man turn his go-phone off and toss it onto the coffee table, and that was only after he’d sent a few texts on it he knew were from Ezio. “You going to stay mad at him for a while?” he asked as Altair leaned back against his chest. They were half lying on the couch, Malik propped up against the arm and Altair lying between his legs, back to chest.
“Till I feel like not,” Altair grumbled.
“I think you’re being petty,” Malik said simply and ran a hand through Altair’s hair.
“Probably. He’s still a dick,” Altair folded his arms trying to be grumpy. Malik just smiled slightly and continued to comb through his hair gently and turned to watch the TV which was tuned to Discovery and some sort of mindless fishing show, looked like shrimp. Shrimp, of all things. Altair’s act didn’t last very long though and he tilted his head a little as Malik changed the position of his hand, to get him to ruffle where he wanted.
“I find it impressive you try so hard to be tough,” Malik informed him.
“I am tough,” Altair groused, though lowly.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (85/?)
“That’s me,” Altair said chipperly and turned his head around and up slightly to catch Malik’s lips with a slight, pleased, sigh. This felt good, especially after how awkward it had been yesterday. Malik had invited Altair into his room and it was like suddenly they didn’t know what to do with each other and it had been a long time since Malik had been with someone. That tended to happen when you had only one arm, you usually got the weirdos with a kink, or the guys who would flirt with an amputee but didn’t want to do much beyond that, that or the guys who were just desperate or were horny enough to fuck anything and not even Malik would sink that low.
He didn’t even take his shirt off around friends, only Kadar, or his parents. He wasn’t comfortable with it, since it was like his one weakness, that one physical defect that people could point and stare at and make awkward comments about. Or worse yet, ask questions. It was why he didn’t go out often, didn’t seek out attention, because just walking down the street he got stares and it made him uncomfortable. Hell, six years and he still wasn’t over the fact that he was limbless and would try to reach for things with two hands. He wasn’t ashamed of the missing limb and the shrapnel scarring, he was just… sensitive.
The idea of revealing that flaw, that insecurity, to anyone who didn’t get it was terrifying. It hadn’t been till he’d had Altair in his room that he realized it fully either. He couldn’t do it. Mercifully Altair didn’t ask for anything and just plopped down on Malik’s bed next to him and curled up under the covers saying he was glad he didn’t have to sleep on that damn couch. The next night Altair didn’t ask or assume. When Malik went to bed he was watching TV and when he woke up in the morning Altair was asleep on the couch in a nest of blankets. He knew not to push. Malik didn’t even know what to say to him after that, so he didn’t, and it had been weird for a bit.
Not now though. Here Altair was, basically in his lap, a warm weight against him, pressed neatly against his chest, lips soft and almost careful as he pressed kisses all over Malik’s lips. “This is the most uncomfortable position ever,” Altair groaned when he pulled away and Malik chuckled lowly only to find himself with a real lap full of assassin as Altair turned around and straddled his thighs. “That’s better,” and he nipped at Malik’s chin through his thin goatee he was growing out for winter.
“Much,” Malik said with a smirk and Altair kissed him again, slow and deliberate, now his own hands combing lightly through Malik’s hair.
“Get a room you two,” Kadar suddenly burst their bubble and Malik turned towards the kitchen when Kadar was getting out lunch meat to make a sandwich, even though it was like nine at night.
“What? No screaming about your poor virgin eyes?” Malik teased him, clearly bringing up every time Kadar had ever interrupted him and Ezio ever.
Kadar gave him a sideways look, “I’ll let you off this once. Though only cause this one has a nice ass and isn’t a jerk,” he said and slathered mayonnaise and mustard on his bread.
“That isn’t very ni-
“You’re pretty generous squirt,” Altair said, leaning against Malik’s shoulder as Kadar piled on turkey, ham, and cheese.
“This once. Honestly, get a room, I don’t want bodily fluids where I watch TV,” Kadar huffed.
“You know Kadar. If I remember correctly it was you who made it so that we now use this side of the couch cushions,” Malik drawled, and Kadar’s ears turned bright red. “Now shoo,” and Malik made a shooing motion as Kadar rapidly threw the lunch meat into the fridge and scuttled back into his room, sandwich in hand.
“Did he really?” Altair asked only once Kadar’s door had closed.
“Yep.”
“How bad did you ride his ass about it after?”
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (86/?)
“He approves you know,” Altair said smugly when he pulled away.
“Yeah, the little cretin,” Malik rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t aware you needed approval. Going to call my parents next?”
“You don’t live with your parents, so I will forgo that conversation until I can’t any more,” Altair said and kissed along Malik’s jaw.
“You can be wise. Who knew?”
“Oh shut up,” Altair growled, right up along Malik’s skin, more of the feeling of the word against skin than actually being able to hear it.
“Hey don’t dooo tha—” Malik ended in a groan, unable to complete his scolding as Altair started to bite and kiss his neck. That was because Altair’s hand was now down over his pants. It literally shorted his brain for a few seconds before getting back on track. “No hickeys,” he said and shoved Altair’s face away from him.
“Anywhere?” Altair asked slyly and Malik flushed. Malik tried to say something but a very embarrassing rasping noise was all that came out instead. Altair chuckled, “So just the neck,” he hummed and Malik swallowed when Alatair’s hands slid up his flanks and took possession of Malik’s mouth again, carefully licking his way past lips and into his mouth. Malik moaned softly and cupped the back of Altair’s neck, thumb working in small circles across the nape of his neck. He stumbled over his own breath when Altair slid a hand up his right side, riding up his shirt, palm and finger pads dragging across skin. He knew one of two things was probably about to happen, he was going to say stop, or, he was going to say more, because this sort of wary dance he was doing around the subject couldn’t be kept up forever. He knew that.
“Stop,” Malik said breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper. “Stop,” he breathed again. Altair pressed his forehead to Malik’s but pulled back, to keep his hands to himself, though he seemed to manage it just barely, only doing so by sheer of force of will, like he couldn’t believe Malik had just cockblocked the both of them. “Off,” he said looking at Altair through his long lashes. Altair frowned at him but did as he was told. Malik liked that. That Altair didn’t ask or assume, he just let Malik do what he was comfortable with since he seemed okay with anything. After all, this was something exciting, something fun, two things Altair was all for.
Malik immediately stood, grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned off the TV. When he looked at Altair the Syrian just had his brows raised but said nothing. “Coming?” was all Malik asked as he walked away and felt Altair’s eyes follow him for a few seconds before putting two and two together and seeing where Malik was headed. He repressed a little laugh as he heard Altair stumble off the couch and quickly catch up with him as he was about to open his bedroom door. Altair’s arms circled his waist, and pressed his face to his shoulder, kissing him through his shirt.
“Of course I am,” Altair said lowly into Malik’s ear, teeth dragging across the cup of his ear and Malik shivered. He didn’t stop Altair as he slid a hand up under Malik’s shirt before they stumbled into Malik’s room as he physically wasn’t able to take it any more. The door was closed and Malik shoved Altair up against it, he just grinned smugly as Malik kissed him firmly, if only to wipe that look off his face.
--
One more scene guys. ONE. MORE. SCENE.
I bet you all know what it is too!
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (86/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-12-15 02:38 am (UTC)(link)Re: Altered Flight Pattern (86/?)
(Anonymous) - 2012-01-01 07:38 (UTC) - Expand