“Kiss you?” Malik pulled a face. He looked down at the whetstone, then shrugged. Men kissed all the time, of course. The Assassins weren’t that close, but the men in the village greeted each other that way. Eventually, Malik nodded his head.
Altair straightened up and looked at Malik very gravely. The other boy stared straight at him. His lips were slightly parted, but he seemed just as hesitant as Altair. They sat for a few long seconds in serene silence. Finally, Altair brought his head forward, accidentally knocking their teeth together.
They staid like this, though, mouth pressed to mouth. It was kind of wet. He felt Malik’s breath on his face. His mouth was half open, so Altair tried to push his tongue in the way some kids did, though he hadn’t seen two men do that, ever. It was even stranger now because he could actually taste that Malik had bitten his lip even as they talked because there was blood in his mouth. Malik’s tongue pushed back, trying to get him out, or perhaps do the same to Altair in revenge. Then Malik snickered and drew away.
“It’s weird.”
Altair nodded, relieved and a bit perplexed at adults and their strange ways, not for the first time in his life. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed the handle of his dagger once more, sucking at his own tongue to get metallic taste of his first kiss off it. Now he could say he had done it if anyone asked. And it wasn’t so bad with Malik. Strange, but not gross.
“The blade is too flat against the whetstone,” Altair commented, looking back down on his dagger, his mind jumping to the next task, now that this one was accomplished.
“Not, it’s not. It has to be so that you can just barely put your finger under it. Else you’re making it more blunt instead of sharper.”
Altair opened his mouth to protest, but he didn’t, then. His friend was usually right when it came to blades.
“How do you know?”
“I asked Haidar who makes the weapons, for when I get to fight with a real sword.”
Altair glanced at Malik’s thin arm. “You won’t be a good sword fighter. You’re too small, and too slight beside. Ahmet says you should work on your throwing knives more.”
“Can too! I will grow!”
“Sure you will.”
Malik gave him a dark look. Just when he was about to yell, Altair leaned forward kissed him again, just briefly pushing their lips together. Then he laughed at Malik’s disgusted expression. He jumped up before the other could swat at him.
“Come, let’s go to the sleeping chambers or Mahir will scream at us again. You’ll help me sharpen my dagger tomorrow.”
“I won’t help you at all anymore,” Malik said as he got to his bare feet and ran after Altair, out of the room and down the stone stairs; but Altair just smiled because he knew Malik always would.
Altair/Malik: Tastes Like Sharp Steel (2/2)
Altair straightened up and looked at Malik very gravely. The other boy stared straight at him. His lips were slightly parted, but he seemed just as hesitant as Altair. They sat for a few long seconds in serene silence. Finally, Altair brought his head forward, accidentally knocking their teeth together.
They staid like this, though, mouth pressed to mouth. It was kind of wet. He felt Malik’s breath on his face. His mouth was half open, so Altair tried to push his tongue in the way some kids did, though he hadn’t seen two men do that, ever. It was even stranger now because he could actually taste that Malik had bitten his lip even as they talked because there was blood in his mouth. Malik’s tongue pushed back, trying to get him out, or perhaps do the same to Altair in revenge. Then Malik snickered and drew away.
“It’s weird.”
Altair nodded, relieved and a bit perplexed at adults and their strange ways, not for the first time in his life. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed the handle of his dagger once more, sucking at his own tongue to get metallic taste of his first kiss off it. Now he could say he had done it if anyone asked. And it wasn’t so bad with Malik. Strange, but not gross.
“The blade is too flat against the whetstone,” Altair commented, looking back down on his dagger, his mind jumping to the next task, now that this one was accomplished.
“Not, it’s not. It has to be so that you can just barely put your finger under it. Else you’re making it more blunt instead of sharper.”
Altair opened his mouth to protest, but he didn’t, then. His friend was usually right when it came to blades.
“How do you know?”
“I asked Haidar who makes the weapons, for when I get to fight with a real sword.”
Altair glanced at Malik’s thin arm. “You won’t be a good sword fighter. You’re too small, and too slight beside. Ahmet says you should work on your throwing knives more.”
“Can too! I will grow!”
“Sure you will.”
Malik gave him a dark look. Just when he was about to yell, Altair leaned forward kissed him again, just briefly pushing their lips together. Then he laughed at Malik’s disgusted expression. He jumped up before the other could swat at him.
“Come, let’s go to the sleeping chambers or Mahir will scream at us again. You’ll help me sharpen my dagger tomorrow.”
“I won’t help you at all anymore,” Malik said as he got to his bare feet and ran after Altair, out of the room and down the stone stairs; but Altair just smiled because he knew Malik always would.