“It wouldn’t make me more of a man,” Malik let go of Altair’s sash and smoothed his palm over his cheek, where his beard was growing. Yes, he wanted Altair, wanted him in every way, every time, every where. But not if Altair offered his affections as payment of debt! “It would just make you less of one.”
“Yes-”
Malik drew back his fist and struck Altair in the face. The other man didn’t even make a move to dodge it, though he certainly had enough time to see it coming. Now Malik was truly becoming frustrated. “What has happened to you, in the name of God? Get up, you ass! God damn you,” Malik strode around the desk to pull Altair back up by his collar, shaking him back and forth with surprising strength- “say something!”
“I’m sorry-”
“Say something else!”
“Wasn’t that what you wanted?!?”
Malik flung Altair away from him, half disgusted and half horrified. “You have no clue what I want, Altair.” He lowered himself onto his knees in front of Altair, who was sprawled on the floor, too afraid to move a muscle. A dribble of blood leaked from one corner of his mouth, where the lip was split from the strike. Malik clenched and unclenched his fist, letting the shame of having hit the man he loved- that Altair let himself be struck. It was all because he couldn’t come to terms with what he’d done and why he wasn’t yet dead, but Malik wasn’t about to let him destroy himself. He was all that was left now. “Listen to me,” he breathed on Altair’s parted lips, holding a hand to his cheek and feeling the other man slowly lean into his touch… “the Sun has never said to the Earth, ‘you owe me’. And that love is what lights up the sky!” Unrepentant, Malik pressed their lips together brazenly, murmuring against Altair’s slack mouth, “you apologize to no one but Allah, you understand?”
Against every grain of his being, he stood up, straightened his robe, and turned his back on Altair. Nothing good was going to come of this, and he could not allow himself to take advantage of Altair. “If you only wanted to seek forgiveness, then it is not up to me to grant it.” He took up his reed pen and rubbed it against a piece of coarse stone, sanding it down and sharpening its edge. Really, it didn’t need to be sharpened again, but Malik had to find a way to occupy himself.
The assassin wrenched the pen away and out of his hand, flinging it across the room. “Malik, just listen to me..!”
“No, Altair. I tried to catch you when you lunged at Robert. It was I who knocked you off your balance. You know that.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he twisted his body to follow the source of his touch, and he saw that Altair was by his side. The affection glowing in his eyes made Malik’s heartbeat race with the knowledge that this man might actually love him too.
An informer tumbled into the bureau.
That (perhaps?) love turned to fear in a clap. Altair barged out of the workroom, nearly knocking over the informer as he entered. He didn’t even return the man’s salaam.
~ x ~
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” –Rumi
“Altair? Is that you in there?”
“…yes.”
“How did you get in here?”
“I’m an assassin, Malik. Do you really think so lowly of me?” Altair laughed, and then returned to his task of scrutinizing every corner of Malik’s personal quarters. He pinched the quilts to feel their thickness, smelled the water in the jug next to the cot (that was never used) to see that it was fresh, even scratched at the walls to inspect its cleanness. It was a little absurd to watch. “Hm,” he said at last, “you have been taking well care of yourself.”
Malik smirked, and then crossed the bridge between the breathless chasms to wrap his one arm around Altair’s waist and whisper in his ear, “I am an assassin, Altair. Do you really think so lowly of me?”
Finally alone at last, with night falling over Jerusalem, Altair unravelled. He fell apart in Malik’s hands, shedding the day’s masks and covers for modesty. Malik unhooked the buckle over Altair’s right breast that held his weapons on his back, the hefty thing dropping to the ground while Altair removed his belt and began to unwind the red sash wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t the first time Malik had seen Altair undress, or even helped him in the process. But this time he knew that the night was going to end very differently.
The robes were shrugged off and discarded unceremoniously, followed by Altair’s leggings. Boots, wrist guards, hidden blades, and all other gadgets were thrown across the room where they landed wherever they liked. Malik, too, disrobed himself, thankful that a Dai’s robes were fairly uncomplicated. When the last piece of fabric came off, he allowed Altair to take in the sight of his stump, wrapped in bandage and gauze. It was hard to tell what the other man was thinking- did Altair pity him? Was he again being washed in guilt? Was he maybe angry? Disappointed?
“Altair,” Malik leaned forward and breathed against the other man’s flushed ear, “you understand that if we do this, you will never make it to janna?” He watched that adam’s apple bob as Altair swallowed nervously, clearing his throat before drawing Malik closer to himself and falling back onto the Dai’s cushions. Do you really love me so much to want me as I am, Altair? You love me so much that you’d sacrifice salvation? To love someone too much is forbidden.
“I think it’s too late for me.”
“No, Altair, you don’t understand… What we do is jihad, and Allah is on our side. But if you do this, you’ll ruin yourself forever.” There was no penalty for a man fucking another man, as long as he was the dominant and manly partner. However, the partner who was penetrated was throwing away not only Allah’s plans for him, but also his own honour as a man.
The assassin blinked twice and looked up at the thatched ceiling. “I am already ruined, Malik.”
“You-” he edged himself forward on his knees and took Altair’s chin in his hand, tilting it back down and towards him. In the other man’s eyes he saw the sun and moon and all the stars of the sky. “You were forced against your will.” No, he could not believe it. Not Altair, not this proud man.
“…Abbas tricked me. I couldn’t… run…”
All the breath was forced out of his lungs. “Oh…!” How long had Altair kept such a horrible secret bottled up? Now Malik thought back to all the times Altair dodged out of Abbas’ presence, how he shied away from every mention of sex, and the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.
“I stopped praying after that… truly praying, I mean. I’d do the actions of wudu and salat but it never felt the same… because why would Allah allow that to happen to me if He loved me? If He was Great and Merciful? Surely He either hated me or He didn’t give a shit.” He worried his lip, nervously sneaking glances at Malik to assure himself that the other was not disgusted. “I was too ashamed to tell anyone.” Altair glanced down and peered at Malik’s straining erection, the thick bulbous head a shock of pink, the color of a tongue. He nudged it with a knee, shaking Malik out of his thoughts.
“Ah-”
“It doesn’t hurt me now.” Already Altair was trying to push the problem away, as he always did. “I’m at peace with it. Someone took a sip of me when I wasn’t looking. Abbas made a wound, he tore a hole in my soul, but that tear is where I want your light to enter.”
~ x ~
“In love, aside from sipping the wine of timelessness, nothing else exists. There is no reason for living except for giving one's life. I said, 'First I know you, then I die.' He said, 'For the one who knows Me, there is no dying.'” -Rumi
Malik would never own Altair- this he knew. Altair was going to marry someday, and God Willing, he should have children. If Malik could find a woman himself even with his disability, he longed also to have sons. Altair knew this, and they treasured the time they shared together- walking hand in hand in the streets so Malik would not be insulted for being a cripple, sharing food from a single dish, kissing each other once or twice on the cheek (and surreptitiously on the lips) when they greeted each other in company of others. Even when they were not alone, they knew everything about each other. And knowledge they could own completely.
They knew each other’s voice, the change in pitch and the way their moans closed off and pinched at the moment of climax. They knew the grain of each other’s skin- dry, damp, soaked with sweat. Even hooded, they recognized each other as they entered a room or turned a corner, each time sending a jolt through their chests. Malik knew the lift and pad of Altair’s heel, in boots or sandals or bare, as he walked away. Altair knew the way Malik’s lips pursed, then parted slightly when he leaned in for a kiss- when the space between them became one and they needed nothing more than each other.
They didn’t go to each other like a moth to a flame- that was a bad analogy and it indicated that they were mindless in their want. This was not true; they sought each other out consciously as mystics searching for God, and trying to take as much of the other in as they could.
Their love was a secret that had to be kept tightly lipped. The two of them could be killed or otherwise severely punished if anyone discovered they engaged in sodomy- for a man to lie with another man as a woman would; think of it! Then he would be a woman with all the power of a man! This was unacceptable. Normally as long as the pair took their pleasure privately and did not disturb the public, they should be left well alone. However, there were many even among the Order who would jump at the chance to try them both for sodomy. In the beginning, it was Altair who laid himself down and let Malik climb over him, but after some time Malik too took to being dominated by the other. Then they found curious ways to be on top but on the bottom, to be sideways and frontways and backwards and even upside down. They loved each other and they loved deeply, taking pleasure and humour and cruelty from each other in equal parts. It came to a point when they didn’t even know who or what they were-
“I am a fish,” sighed Altair, sated. His skin glistened with his sweat, glowing a strange tint of pink and gold from his catharsis. He turned his face towards Malik, who was lying by his side and gasping for breath. “Never mind,” Altair corrected himself, smiling at the way the other’s mouth opened and closed without reservation of being judged. “You are the fish.”
Malik took a long drag of a brass hookah, slowly exhaling tight rings of smoke into the room which smelled thickly of sex. What indulgence, and they couldn’t even be bothered to feel sorry for it. “I am the fish… and yet I am not the fish. What am I to you?”
“You are the sun.” Altair paused, considering. The sun was feminine to the moon, and so he reconsidered. “You are the moon?”
“I am the sun and the moon?” Masha’Allah, Praised be to God, they were drunk on love.
“You are just light. It doesn’t matter if it comes from the sun or from the moon.”
Outside the Bureau, the world turned and there were bits and pieces and parts of bits- people, beasts, objects, plants, ideas, unseen things buried in the ground… It was going to be morning soon. Malik and Altair passed the entire night sharing their love, their never-ending stories and revelations, goals and aspirations for the future, and even their full silences. They’d talked all through the night about the day to come, and now as the sun was finally rising over the horizon, they were struggling to keep their eyes open. Altair was Grand Master and Malik didn’t know exactly what he was- an advisor, a lover?
Tomorrow… or whenever they woke up and ate… they were going to leave Jerusalem for Masyaf.
“How is Maria?”
The question took Altair by surprise. How was it that they spent the entire night talking, and yet the gargantuan subject of Altair’s upcoming marriage was never discussed? “She is well.”
“Congratulations.”
“Insha’Allah, God Willing, it is a boy.”
“Will you tell him the story of the fish and the frog?”
“Ya Allah, Malik, I am tired of this story.” Altair turned onto his side and closed his eyes, and then yawned, “how does the- ahhhh- the story even end?”
Malik leaned across and planted a chaste kiss on his lover’s cheek. “The frog and fish decided to tie a string between them together so they’d always be close to each other. Then one day, an eagle flew by and grabbed the fish straight from the face of the sea.”
His eyelids becoming heavier, Altair sank into the cushions and his words began to slur… “But… but the frog…”
“The frog and fish together went into the sky, and the friendship between them was so strong that they hadn’t a care that they were dying.” Malik’s voice dropped to a low hum. He settled himself down behind Altair, pressed his legs against the backs of his naked thighs, and pulled their quilt over the two of them. His heart was filled to bursting- how blessed he was! His lover was already beginning to snore softly, even as the morning light began to spill in from the windows.
Malik pressed his lips to Altair’s inattentive ear.
“The eagle flew high and took them both to Paradise.”
~ x ~
End.
~ x ~
Writer!anon is not Muslim. As far as I am aware, the Qur'an does not explicitly denounce homosexuality, since during the time and in that society where Islam took root, there was a very different idea of it. To have sex with someone of the same gender was sodomy and a sin, categorized in the same file as bestiality, rape, etc. And in a religious society in which men and women are so strongly segregated, I wouldn't be surprised to hear of same sex tendencies between men. As long as it is out of sight and mind, such behaviour would have found some way to occur.
There was also a lot more stigma (even today) in Arab cultures against the 'submissive' partner, the one who was penetrated. That was seen as a relinquishing of gender and manhood, which likened the man too much to a woman.
It was difficult to write this sort of thing steeped in so much religion and spiritual guilt. I couldn't work smut in- it just didn't fit. Sorry if anyone was disappointed. In the meantime, enjoy some of Rumi's lovely poetry!
Terms: Insha'Allah = God Willing Masha'Allah = Praise God / Glory Be Janna = Heaven / Paradise Ya Allah = Oh God Iftar = Evening meal (when fast is broken at night during the month of Ramadhan) Suhoor = Morning meal (when Muslims eat everything within a 5 mile radius to prepare for a day of fasting during Ramadhan) Bismillah (ir-rahman ir-rahim)= In the name of God (most Gracious, most Compassionate) Salaam Aleikum = Peace be With You
Fish Out of Water (4) [COMPLETE]
“Yes-”
Malik drew back his fist and struck Altair in the face. The other man didn’t even make a move to dodge it, though he certainly had enough time to see it coming. Now Malik was truly becoming frustrated. “What has happened to you, in the name of God? Get up, you ass! God damn you,” Malik strode around the desk to pull Altair back up by his collar, shaking him back and forth with surprising strength- “say something!”
“I’m sorry-”
“Say something else!”
“Wasn’t that what you wanted?!?”
Malik flung Altair away from him, half disgusted and half horrified. “You have no clue what I want, Altair.” He lowered himself onto his knees in front of Altair, who was sprawled on the floor, too afraid to move a muscle. A dribble of blood leaked from one corner of his mouth, where the lip was split from the strike. Malik clenched and unclenched his fist, letting the shame of having hit the man he loved- that Altair let himself be struck. It was all because he couldn’t come to terms with what he’d done and why he wasn’t yet dead, but Malik wasn’t about to let him destroy himself. He was all that was left now. “Listen to me,” he breathed on Altair’s parted lips, holding a hand to his cheek and feeling the other man slowly lean into his touch… “the Sun has never said to the Earth, ‘you owe me’. And that love is what lights up the sky!” Unrepentant, Malik pressed their lips together brazenly, murmuring against Altair’s slack mouth, “you apologize to no one but Allah, you understand?”
Against every grain of his being, he stood up, straightened his robe, and turned his back on Altair. Nothing good was going to come of this, and he could not allow himself to take advantage of Altair. “If you only wanted to seek forgiveness, then it is not up to me to grant it.” He took up his reed pen and rubbed it against a piece of coarse stone, sanding it down and sharpening its edge. Really, it didn’t need to be sharpened again, but Malik had to find a way to occupy himself.
The assassin wrenched the pen away and out of his hand, flinging it across the room. “Malik, just listen to me..!”
“No, Altair. I tried to catch you when you lunged at Robert. It was I who knocked you off your balance. You know that.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he twisted his body to follow the source of his touch, and he saw that Altair was by his side. The affection glowing in his eyes made Malik’s heartbeat race with the knowledge that this man might actually love him too.
An informer tumbled into the bureau.
That (perhaps?) love turned to fear in a clap. Altair barged out of the workroom, nearly knocking over the informer as he entered. He didn’t even return the man’s salaam.
~ x ~
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
–Rumi
“Altair? Is that you in there?”
“…yes.”
“How did you get in here?”
“I’m an assassin, Malik. Do you really think so lowly of me?” Altair laughed, and then returned to his task of scrutinizing every corner of Malik’s personal quarters. He pinched the quilts to feel their thickness, smelled the water in the jug next to the cot (that was never used) to see that it was fresh, even scratched at the walls to inspect its cleanness. It was a little absurd to watch. “Hm,” he said at last, “you have been taking well care of yourself.”
Malik smirked, and then crossed the bridge between the breathless chasms to wrap his one arm around Altair’s waist and whisper in his ear, “I am an assassin, Altair. Do you really think so lowly of me?”
Finally alone at last, with night falling over Jerusalem, Altair unravelled. He fell apart in Malik’s hands, shedding the day’s masks and covers for modesty. Malik unhooked the buckle over Altair’s right breast that held his weapons on his back, the hefty thing dropping to the ground while Altair removed his belt and began to unwind the red sash wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t the first time Malik had seen Altair undress, or even helped him in the process. But this time he knew that the night was going to end very differently.
The robes were shrugged off and discarded unceremoniously, followed by Altair’s leggings. Boots, wrist guards, hidden blades, and all other gadgets were thrown across the room where they landed wherever they liked. Malik, too, disrobed himself, thankful that a Dai’s robes were fairly uncomplicated. When the last piece of fabric came off, he allowed Altair to take in the sight of his stump, wrapped in bandage and gauze. It was hard to tell what the other man was thinking- did Altair pity him? Was he again being washed in guilt? Was he maybe angry? Disappointed?
“Altair,” Malik leaned forward and breathed against the other man’s flushed ear, “you understand that if we do this, you will never make it to janna?” He watched that adam’s apple bob as Altair swallowed nervously, clearing his throat before drawing Malik closer to himself and falling back onto the Dai’s cushions. Do you really love me so much to want me as I am, Altair? You love me so much that you’d sacrifice salvation? To love someone too much is forbidden.
“I think it’s too late for me.”
“No, Altair, you don’t understand… What we do is jihad, and Allah is on our side. But if you do this, you’ll ruin yourself forever.” There was no penalty for a man fucking another man, as long as he was the dominant and manly partner. However, the partner who was penetrated was throwing away not only Allah’s plans for him, but also his own honour as a man.
The assassin blinked twice and looked up at the thatched ceiling. “I am already ruined, Malik.”
“You-” he edged himself forward on his knees and took Altair’s chin in his hand, tilting it back down and towards him. In the other man’s eyes he saw the sun and moon and all the stars of the sky. “You were forced against your will.” No, he could not believe it. Not Altair, not this proud man.
“…Abbas tricked me. I couldn’t… run…”
All the breath was forced out of his lungs. “Oh…!” How long had Altair kept such a horrible secret bottled up? Now Malik thought back to all the times Altair dodged out of Abbas’ presence, how he shied away from every mention of sex, and the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.
“I stopped praying after that… truly praying, I mean. I’d do the actions of wudu and salat but it never felt the same… because why would Allah allow that to happen to me if He loved me? If He was Great and Merciful? Surely He either hated me or He didn’t give a shit.” He worried his lip, nervously sneaking glances at Malik to assure himself that the other was not disgusted. “I was too ashamed to tell anyone.” Altair glanced down and peered at Malik’s straining erection, the thick bulbous head a shock of pink, the color of a tongue. He nudged it with a knee, shaking Malik out of his thoughts.
“Ah-”
“It doesn’t hurt me now.” Already Altair was trying to push the problem away, as he always did. “I’m at peace with it. Someone took a sip of me when I wasn’t looking. Abbas made a wound, he tore a hole in my soul, but that tear is where I want your light to enter.”
~ x ~
“In love, aside from sipping the wine of timelessness,
nothing else exists.
There is no reason for living except for giving one's life.
I said, 'First I know you, then I die.'
He said, 'For the one who knows Me, there is no dying.'”
-Rumi
Malik would never own Altair- this he knew. Altair was going to marry someday, and God Willing, he should have children. If Malik could find a woman himself even with his disability, he longed also to have sons. Altair knew this, and they treasured the time they shared together- walking hand in hand in the streets so Malik would not be insulted for being a cripple, sharing food from a single dish, kissing each other once or twice on the cheek (and surreptitiously on the lips) when they greeted each other in company of others. Even when they were not alone, they knew everything about each other. And knowledge they could own completely.
They knew each other’s voice, the change in pitch and the way their moans closed off and pinched at the moment of climax. They knew the grain of each other’s skin- dry, damp, soaked with sweat. Even hooded, they recognized each other as they entered a room or turned a corner, each time sending a jolt through their chests. Malik knew the lift and pad of Altair’s heel, in boots or sandals or bare, as he walked away. Altair knew the way Malik’s lips pursed, then parted slightly when he leaned in for a kiss- when the space between them became one and they needed nothing more than each other.
They didn’t go to each other like a moth to a flame- that was a bad analogy and it indicated that they were mindless in their want. This was not true; they sought each other out consciously as mystics searching for God, and trying to take as much of the other in as they could.
Their love was a secret that had to be kept tightly lipped. The two of them could be killed or otherwise severely punished if anyone discovered they engaged in sodomy- for a man to lie with another man as a woman would; think of it! Then he would be a woman with all the power of a man! This was unacceptable. Normally as long as the pair took their pleasure privately and did not disturb the public, they should be left well alone. However, there were many even among the Order who would jump at the chance to try them both for sodomy. In the beginning, it was Altair who laid himself down and let Malik climb over him, but after some time Malik too took to being dominated by the other. Then they found curious ways to be on top but on the bottom, to be sideways and frontways and backwards and even upside down. They loved each other and they loved deeply, taking pleasure and humour and cruelty from each other in equal parts. It came to a point when they didn’t even know who or what they were-
“I am a fish,” sighed Altair, sated. His skin glistened with his sweat, glowing a strange tint of pink and gold from his catharsis. He turned his face towards Malik, who was lying by his side and gasping for breath. “Never mind,” Altair corrected himself, smiling at the way the other’s mouth opened and closed without reservation of being judged. “You are the fish.”
Malik took a long drag of a brass hookah, slowly exhaling tight rings of smoke into the room which smelled thickly of sex. What indulgence, and they couldn’t even be bothered to feel sorry for it. “I am the fish… and yet I am not the fish. What am I to you?”
“You are the sun.” Altair paused, considering. The sun was feminine to the moon, and so he reconsidered. “You are the moon?”
“I am the sun and the moon?” Masha’Allah, Praised be to God, they were drunk on love.
“You are just light. It doesn’t matter if it comes from the sun or from the moon.”
Outside the Bureau, the world turned and there were bits and pieces and parts of bits- people, beasts, objects, plants, ideas, unseen things buried in the ground… It was going to be morning soon. Malik and Altair passed the entire night sharing their love, their never-ending stories and revelations, goals and aspirations for the future, and even their full silences. They’d talked all through the night about the day to come, and now as the sun was finally rising over the horizon, they were struggling to keep their eyes open. Altair was Grand Master and Malik didn’t know exactly what he was- an advisor, a lover?
Tomorrow… or whenever they woke up and ate… they were going to leave Jerusalem for Masyaf.
“How is Maria?”
The question took Altair by surprise. How was it that they spent the entire night talking, and yet the gargantuan subject of Altair’s upcoming marriage was never discussed? “She is well.”
“Congratulations.”
“Insha’Allah, God Willing, it is a boy.”
“Will you tell him the story of the fish and the frog?”
“Ya Allah, Malik, I am tired of this story.” Altair turned onto his side and closed his eyes, and then yawned, “how does the- ahhhh- the story even end?”
Malik leaned across and planted a chaste kiss on his lover’s cheek. “The frog and fish decided to tie a string between them together so they’d always be close to each other. Then one day, an eagle flew by and grabbed the fish straight from the face of the sea.”
His eyelids becoming heavier, Altair sank into the cushions and his words began to slur… “But… but the frog…”
“The frog and fish together went into the sky, and the friendship between them was so strong that they hadn’t a care that they were dying.” Malik’s voice dropped to a low hum. He settled himself down behind Altair, pressed his legs against the backs of his naked thighs, and pulled their quilt over the two of them. His heart was filled to bursting- how blessed he was! His lover was already beginning to snore softly, even as the morning light began to spill in from the windows.
Malik pressed his lips to Altair’s inattentive ear.
“The eagle flew high and took them both to Paradise.”
~ x ~
End.
~ x ~
Writer!anon is not Muslim. As far as I am aware, the Qur'an does not explicitly denounce homosexuality, since during the time and in that society where Islam took root, there was a very different idea of it. To have sex with someone of the same gender was sodomy and a sin, categorized in the same file as bestiality, rape, etc. And in a religious society in which men and women are so strongly segregated, I wouldn't be surprised to hear of same sex tendencies between men. As long as it is out of sight and mind, such behaviour would have found some way to occur.
There was also a lot more stigma (even today) in Arab cultures against the 'submissive' partner, the one who was penetrated. That was seen as a relinquishing of gender and manhood, which likened the man too much to a woman.
It was difficult to write this sort of thing steeped in so much religion and spiritual guilt. I couldn't work smut in- it just didn't fit. Sorry if anyone was disappointed. In the meantime, enjoy some of Rumi's lovely poetry!
Terms:
Insha'Allah = God Willing
Masha'Allah = Praise God / Glory Be
Janna = Heaven / Paradise
Ya Allah = Oh God
Iftar = Evening meal (when fast is broken at night during the month of Ramadhan)
Suhoor = Morning meal (when Muslims eat everything within a 5 mile radius to prepare for a day of fasting during Ramadhan)
Bismillah (ir-rahman ir-rahim)= In the name of God (most Gracious, most Compassionate)
Salaam Aleikum = Peace be With You