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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Dream Catcher - Part 5a
(Anonymous) 2013-03-05 03:23 am (UTC)(link)Warning for dubcon in this chapter. When I said I sucked at porn? I wasn’t kidding, thus why this part took me so long to get done, I’m so sorry.
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Nothing.
An entire minute and no one came to the door. He rang the doorbell again and put his backpack on the ground, tired of carrying it around. No sound of footsteps. Just nothing at all. That’s when the severity of the situation came crashing down to Malik. He woke up in the middle of the night, grabbed the first plane to an unknown country and was currently at the doorstep of a crazy man. What if he was psychopath? What if Altaïr wanted to knock him out and sell his organs in the black market?
Granted Ezio knew and trusted him, but what did that mean to him? Just because he trusted Ezio didn’t mean he would trust each and every little thing related to the man.
Fear overwhelmed him. He could board a plane back in the morning, but why was he here to begin with? How could he have been so careless? And when Kadar wake up and see his message, just to see him back at home in a few more hours, he would never hear the end of it.
No, this had been a terrible idea.
Just as he turned to walk away he heard some noise from inside. Hurried footsteps.
There was no time to think. In a second the door opened and a hand pulled him inside. The door closed and he was shoved against it, hard.
“What the--”
He was interrupted when lips collided against his. His eyes widened in shock and Malik could only vaguely notice the contour of Altaïr’s hoodie in the dark room. Despite the unexpected turn of events, he managed to push him with one hand. Altaïr’s lips left him for a second but in the next instant they were kissing him again and Malik could only gasp in his mouth. Altaïr’s tongue played with his, making a shiver run up his spine. His teeth bit, nipped and played with his bottom lip and Malik was still unsure if he should push him away again with more force or reciprocate because damn, it felt good.
The weird part was how natural it felt, as if it wasn’t the first time.
While he was still thinking about what to do, Altaïr moved to his neck, quickly pulling his jacket and shirt out of the way so he could have more space to lick and kiss and bite.
“Wait.” He could barely recognize his voice, hoarse and lacking confidence. Altaïr ignored him and continued sucking on that spot that made his head fall against the door. “I said wait, dammit!”
He tried pushing once more, but he lacked strength and was ignored again. Instead his hands clutched Altaïr’s shirt so tight he refused to let go. Altaïr’s own hands wandered down his sides and went back up under his shirt, lifting them in the process. The feeling of those cold fingers trailing his sides made him bite his lower lip and his breathing started to accelerate fast. Somewhere in the back of his mind something screamed danger, but he didn’t want to stop it either. While still deciding on what to do, one of Altaïr’s hands promptly slid inside his jeans and caressed him.
Whatever doubt he had then disappeared. In one swift move, he shoved Altaïr hard and turned to open the door before Altaïr was back on his feet and holding his wrist against the wall. In a second his tongue was back on Malik’s neck and his free hand down his pants, touching him again.
Malik brought his free hand to Altaïr’s hoodie, pulling it down, then rested it on the base of his neck, half scratching, half caressing. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.
This man was a handsome man, known and trusted by Ezio, who just paid a ticket for him and was doing wonderful things to him. But on the other hand, he was a stranger who was, willingly or not, giving him headaches, stalked him around and was part of some super secret (probably illegal) organization.
And here he was, masturbating Malik like it was the most natural thing to do.
In a sense, it was. He couldn’t deny the fact that Altaïr’s hands on him, his mouth on his neck wasn’t an odd sensation. It felt familiar. It didn’t feel wrong and the sheer realization of it made him lose control.
Next thing he knew, his jeans were unbuttoned, Altaïr was on his knees and swiftly pulling his boxers down to grip his cock. Altaïr stroked him a few times before engulfing him with his mouth entirely. There was no time to react so he let out a loud moan and quickly brought one hand to his mouth. He was glad he could use the wall as support or he would have fallen by now.
Altaïr didn’t really waste much time and moved back and forth, making sure to give the head a proper lick every time he moved back. His hands pushed Malik’s hips against the wall, probably making sure he wouldn’t try to run again, not that he was thinking about it anymore.
Any coherent thoughts Malik still had were gone the moment Altaïr’s mouth left him to stroke it up and down some more. The bastard knew what he was doing to him because he looked up, stared right into his eyes and licked his lips before returning to lick his shaft. This time his hand held the base tightly.
Malik hunched forward, still trying to contain weird sounds from leaving his mouth. With his free hand he fumbled around for support, gripping Altaïr’s shoulder tightly. The man looked up at him in annoyance, glancing towards his hand, but he didn’t care. He had a man between his legs giving him a blowjob, he couldn’t care less if he was hurting Altaïr.
In response Altaïr moved faster, licked more, scraped his teeth against the head. With a muffled moan, Malik came hard. He trembled and shivered as Altaïr continued sucking him dry and the sight alone was enough to make his face feel as if it was on fire. Incoherent sounds left his mouth as he slid down the wall until he sat on the floor, panting, face to face with Altaïr.
His head fell against the wall and he chanced a glance at Altaïr. He almost smirked when he noticed Altaïr was also catching up his breath, though not as hard as Malik himself was. A look down and he knew why: he was cupping his bulge, trying to hide it from view. He blushed when he realised Altaïr had just pleasured him but was left hanging. What was he supposed to do? Masturbate him? Return the favor with his mouth? He had never even kissed a man before. It was different from pleasuring a woman. He didn’t even know where to start.
A million questions ran through his mind. Altaïr’s gaze met his and they spent a moment in silent, trapped in each other’s stare. Time seemed to have stopped. Was Altaïr waiting for him to do something? To touch him? To retribute the favor?
In a moment of bravery, Malik slowly lifted his hand and touched Altaïr’s right arm. He caressed his way up through his shoulder until he reached his neck and slid his fingers under his shirt. Something in Altaïr’s gaze flickered but he wasn’t sure if...
Suddenly the lights turned on.
“Who the fuck is at the door at this t-- What the hell?”
Malik instantly covered his eyes from the sudden inconvenience. After blinking a few times, he noticed a man behind Altaïr turning around, his back facing them now.
“Seriously? You could’ve said something if you were bringing someone home, Jesus.”
Altaïr didn’t even turn around to look at the man in the corridor. He simply shrugged, as if the other man could see it. But when he heard footsteps leaving, Altaïr turned to look at him.
“Wait, Desmond. We need to talk.”
The man - Desmond - turned around again, but avoided looking anywhere near where he was plastered against the floor. He couldn’t stop staring at him - so similar to Altaïr. The same bronzed skin, even the same scar on the same place! The biggest difference was his hair, which was a bit shorter than Altaïr’s and darker too, pitch black.
“Now? Man, it’s five in the morning. And you’re, huh... busy, I think.”
Altaïr sighed and turned back to Malik, looking him up and down.
“Give me a minute.”
Desmond mumbled something under his breath as he left, but he didn’t quite catch it. Instead, when Altaïr looked at him again, Malik simply pointed to a place on his own face next to his mouth. Altaïr caught on and mimicked his gesture, wiping clean a spot that had been dirty with his... he didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he reached down and zipped up his jeans again.
In an instant, Altaïr was on his feet and pulling him up. He guided Malik through the corridor and opened the second door to the left. They entered and he couldn’t help but notice how simple and small the room really was. Just a single bed, a nightstand (a single table lamp on top) and a small wardrobe, which Altaïr was fumbling with now. Something was thrown in his direction and he caught it in midair. It was a white towel.
“You can take a shower if you want. Or go to sleep.” He pointed at the bed. “I’ll wake you up in the morning so we can talk.”
Before he was out the door, however, Malik took a step closer in his direction and Altaïr stopped.
“My backpack. I left it outside.”
Altaïr nodded and was gone. Malik still couldn’t understand how this guy managed to slip away so furtively every time. Sighing, he headed for the bed and put the towel on top of the nightstand. Tucking himself under the covers, he turned off the lights and drifted to sleep.
He didn’t have a single dream that night, or at least, none that he could remember, even though the dreamcatcher Kadar gave him was deep inside the backpack, outside the apartment.
Still, It was more than enough. For the first time in weeks he managed to actually rest.
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Re: Dream Catcher - Part 5a
(Anonymous) 2013-03-05 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)