Truthfully, it wasn’t so bad at night. The small window provided a nice breeze, the sun didn’t burn his skin and the temperature overall fell drastically. The pillows had long since been forgotten next to the wall as all he wanted was to stay on the cold ground refreshing his skin. No matter how cold it was, it still seemed to burn. With heat, with desire, with a lot of things he really shouldn’t be thinking about.
He tried thinking back about his first heat so many years ago and how he dealt with it then. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to salvage from his first experience - it had been short as Al Mualim had found it out before Altaïr even entered the stage and he only spent a few hours in it before--
Altaïr turned his head in the door’s direction as a faint glow entered from beneath, probably from a candle. Someone was outside (and he hadn’t heard them, which meant whoever it was made sure to be imperceptible). If there was one good thing about his condition it was how sharp his senses became. His skin felt the cold stones beneath him, every solid detail of the texture as if he had never felt the ground before. He could swear even his hearing and vision became clearer, better. So he waited and breathed slowly.
He heard the person outside step forward, slowly on his tiptoes. As silently as possible, Altaïr raised from his spot and walked in their direction, wanting to get closer, wanting to open the door and invite them. Only there was something at the back of his mind telling him not to and he knew why; he knew exactly what would happen if he opened the door. But the part of him that wanted it was speaking louder.
Just then fast footsteps approached and Altaïr retreated his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Malik’s voice and he didn’t seem happy.
“Patrolling. I thought I heard something up here.”
Altaïr twisted his nose in disgust at Abbas’ voice. Damn him.
“Your patrol duty is at the gate, not up here. Now get down to the dining hall or go to your room without dinner, I don’t care. But the upper floors are none of your concern.”
There was a pause and he saw Abbas’s shadow cast from beneath the door shift his weight before taking a few steps.
“I don’t take orders from you, only from the mentor, and your friend just murdered him. ”
“Yes, you do. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re still a guard and I’m still a dai and your superior. Now get your ass out of here before I do it myself.”
Abbas was noticeably uncomfortable, walking around nonstop. If Altaïr knew him well - and he did - he was probably looking for a way out or something to exploit. Whatever it was it was never a good thing.
“Why the food tray?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The rooms in these halls have always remained vacant and open to all, why are they all locked now? What are you hiding?”
Altaïr hated not being able to see what happened behind the door. Malik was getting pissed off and he knew what his friend was capable of doing when he lost his temper. (More or less, he was the living proof of it anyway.)
“Abbas, I’m warning you.”
“What are you plotting?” Abbas’ voice was firm and low now. His shadow indicated he was near Malik and probably attempting to intimidate the other man. He threaded on dangerous ground. “First Altaïr rid us of our mentor now you’re all full of secrets. You’re both destroying this entire brotherhood, planning something against us all. I don’t think I’ll let you do it.”
This is the part Altaïr couldn’t tell what happened, but Abbas had probably touched or done something to malik that set the whole thing off. The next moment there was a loud cnoise from the wooden tray crashing on the floor along with the food. A punch was heard and then someone tumbled down the stairs - violently apparently, because there was a scream.
“You! You miserable... I can’t believe-- You’re as twisted as that rotten friend of yours! You’re all going to burn and I’ll make you pay for this.”
Abbas ran away and Altaïr opened the floor quickly, stepping outside. There were a few drops of blood along with food on the ground and definitely some on Malik’s hand as well, as he shook it slightly from the pain of crashing it right against Abbas’ nose. His right-hand man stood in front of him, facing the other way where the coward had fled.
“He’s getting dangerous.” Altaïr spoke calmly, watching the stairs as well.
“And I don’t like it. No wonder Al Mualim threw him in a dungeon once.”
“He threw me there as well.” He cast a glance at Malik, but the man didn’t turn his way.
“You’re not dangerous, just dumb. When are you going to get rid of him? Are you going to wait until he truly does something worse?”
Altaïr shook his head, even if the other man couldn’t see him. “If the master could correct him, so can I.” He wanted to try at least. If anything, he owed Abbas that much since they used to be friends.
“Then you are dumb and naïve.”
No more was spoken and a heavy silence fell in place. Still Malik wouldn’t look at him.
“Malik.” “I’m serious, Altaïr. He is getting dangerous.” Malik turned slightly, but his head hang low, only glancing at Altaïr’s feet for a second before turning to the food mess. “Don’t ever open that door unless you’re certain it’s me.”
“You want me to open the door for you?” He raised an eyebrow and did his best to contain a cocky smile.
For a second Malik stared right at him, annoyance clear in his face, before he turned away again. “You know what I meant.” Deeming the conversation to be over, Malik walked in the stair’s direction.
“Malik.” Altaïr followed.
“I’m going to send someone to clean the mess.”
“Malik.” He fastened his pace after his friend who was already descending the stairs.
“I’ll bring you more food.”
“Malik!”
Dumb and naïve perhaps, but he had the eyes of an eagle and knew Malik better than anyone. Altaïr knew him well enough to realize that when he violently yanked Malik’s arm back and pulled him up the stairs with him in one swift movement, the other man actually let him. Even with one arm Malik was strong enough to have stopped him if he wanted to.
But Malik didn’t stop him and Altaïr had a feeling he knew why as well. He pulled the other man close enough to face him and now Malik couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked and his fist tightened against the front of Malik’s robe, pulling him closer.
Malik looked him up and down and opened his mouth to say something, but lingered a while longer before actually speaking.
“Altaïr, seriously, don’t.”
“Why?”
“Let me go.”
“Give me a reason to.”
“I could give you many, but the only one that matters right now is that you’re not thinking coherently.”
He didn’t want to. The only thought in his mind was to pull Malik with him to the room and lock them both inside. It took him a sheer amount of willpower to timidly open his hand and let him go, though his fingers still lingered on Malik’s chest and the other didn’t seem to mind it all that much. They were still close, none of them having moved, and still could feel Malik’s breath close to his face like the day before, only he didn’t seem annoyed by it anymore.
It took him even more willpower to turn around and go back to his temporary room. He waited with his back against the wood, hand on the key. Just when he was about to turn it and lock it for the rest of the night, Malik yanked it open and turned him around. The door closed again after Malik claimed his lips in a possessive kiss.
----------
This shouldn’t be much longer now, probably three or four more chapters, but I’m usually wrong about these predictions so it could turn out a lot longer or a lot shorter than that, don’t take my word for granted. There may or may not be porn on the next chapter, seriously, I suck at it.
Quizz time: can you figure out who was the one who “helped” Altaïr through his first heat? (hint, hint: the answer is in one of the parts posted until now, can you find it?)
^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).
He tried thinking back about his first heat so many years ago and how he dealt with it then. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to salvage from his first experience - it had been short as Al Mualim had found it out before Altaïr even entered the stage and he only spent a few hours in it before--
Altaïr turned his head in the door’s direction as a faint glow entered from beneath, probably from a candle. Someone was outside (and he hadn’t heard them, which meant whoever it was made sure to be imperceptible). If there was one good thing about his condition it was how sharp his senses became. His skin felt the cold stones beneath him, every solid detail of the texture as if he had never felt the ground before. He could swear even his hearing and vision became clearer, better. So he waited and breathed slowly.
He heard the person outside step forward, slowly on his tiptoes. As silently as possible, Altaïr raised from his spot and walked in their direction, wanting to get closer, wanting to open the door and invite them. Only there was something at the back of his mind telling him not to and he knew why; he knew exactly what would happen if he opened the door. But the part of him that wanted it was speaking louder.
Just then fast footsteps approached and Altaïr retreated his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Malik’s voice and he didn’t seem happy.
“Patrolling. I thought I heard something up here.”
Altaïr twisted his nose in disgust at Abbas’ voice. Damn him.
“Your patrol duty is at the gate, not up here. Now get down to the dining hall or go to your room without dinner, I don’t care. But the upper floors are none of your concern.”
There was a pause and he saw Abbas’s shadow cast from beneath the door shift his weight before taking a few steps.
“I don’t take orders from you, only from the mentor, and your friend just murdered him. ”
“Yes, you do. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re still a guard and I’m still a dai and your superior. Now get your ass out of here before I do it myself.”
Abbas was noticeably uncomfortable, walking around nonstop. If Altaïr knew him well - and he did - he was probably looking for a way out or something to exploit. Whatever it was it was never a good thing.
“Why the food tray?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The rooms in these halls have always remained vacant and open to all, why are they all locked now? What are you hiding?”
Altaïr hated not being able to see what happened behind the door. Malik was getting pissed off and he knew what his friend was capable of doing when he lost his temper. (More or less, he was the living proof of it anyway.)
“Abbas, I’m warning you.”
“What are you plotting?” Abbas’ voice was firm and low now. His shadow indicated he was near Malik and probably attempting to intimidate the other man. He threaded on dangerous ground. “First Altaïr rid us of our mentor now you’re all full of secrets. You’re both destroying this entire brotherhood, planning something against us all. I don’t think I’ll let you do it.”
This is the part Altaïr couldn’t tell what happened, but Abbas had probably touched or done something to malik that set the whole thing off. The next moment there was a loud cnoise from the wooden tray crashing on the floor along with the food. A punch was heard and then someone tumbled down the stairs - violently apparently, because there was a scream.
“You! You miserable... I can’t believe-- You’re as twisted as that rotten friend of yours! You’re all going to burn and I’ll make you pay for this.”
Abbas ran away and Altaïr opened the floor quickly, stepping outside. There were a few drops of blood along with food on the ground and definitely some on Malik’s hand as well, as he shook it slightly from the pain of crashing it right against Abbas’ nose. His right-hand man stood in front of him, facing the other way where the coward had fled.
“He’s getting dangerous.” Altaïr spoke calmly, watching the stairs as well.
“And I don’t like it. No wonder Al Mualim threw him in a dungeon once.”
“He threw me there as well.” He cast a glance at Malik, but the man didn’t turn his way.
“You’re not dangerous, just dumb. When are you going to get rid of him? Are you going to wait until he truly does something worse?”
Altaïr shook his head, even if the other man couldn’t see him. “If the master could correct him, so can I.” He wanted to try at least. If anything, he owed Abbas that much since they used to be friends.
“Then you are dumb and naïve.”
No more was spoken and a heavy silence fell in place. Still Malik wouldn’t look at him.
“Malik.”
“I’m serious, Altaïr. He is getting dangerous.” Malik turned slightly, but his head hang low, only glancing at Altaïr’s feet for a second before turning to the food mess. “Don’t ever open that door unless you’re certain it’s me.”
“You want me to open the door for you?” He raised an eyebrow and did his best to contain a cocky smile.
For a second Malik stared right at him, annoyance clear in his face, before he turned away again. “You know what I meant.” Deeming the conversation to be over, Malik walked in the stair’s direction.
“Malik.” Altaïr followed.
“I’m going to send someone to clean the mess.”
“Malik.” He fastened his pace after his friend who was already descending the stairs.
“I’ll bring you more food.”
“Malik!”
Dumb and naïve perhaps, but he had the eyes of an eagle and knew Malik better than anyone. Altaïr knew him well enough to realize that when he violently yanked Malik’s arm back and pulled him up the stairs with him in one swift movement, the other man actually let him. Even with one arm Malik was strong enough to have stopped him if he wanted to.
But Malik didn’t stop him and Altaïr had a feeling he knew why as well. He pulled the other man close enough to face him and now Malik couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked and his fist tightened against the front of Malik’s robe, pulling him closer.
Malik looked him up and down and opened his mouth to say something, but lingered a while longer before actually speaking.
“Altaïr, seriously, don’t.”
“Why?”
“Let me go.”
“Give me a reason to.”
“I could give you many, but the only one that matters right now is that you’re not thinking coherently.”
He didn’t want to. The only thought in his mind was to pull Malik with him to the room and lock them both inside. It took him a sheer amount of willpower to timidly open his hand and let him go, though his fingers still lingered on Malik’s chest and the other didn’t seem to mind it all that much. They were still close, none of them having moved, and still could feel Malik’s breath close to his face like the day before, only he didn’t seem annoyed by it anymore.
It took him even more willpower to turn around and go back to his temporary room. He waited with his back against the wood, hand on the key. Just when he was about to turn it and lock it for the rest of the night, Malik yanked it open and turned him around. The door closed again after Malik claimed his lips in a possessive kiss.
----------
This shouldn’t be much longer now, probably three or four more chapters, but I’m usually wrong about these predictions so it could turn out a lot longer or a lot shorter than that, don’t take my word for granted. There may or may not be porn on the next chapter, seriously, I suck at it.
Quizz time: can you figure out who was the one who “helped” Altaïr through his first heat? (hint, hint: the answer is in one of the parts posted until now, can you find it?)