Alessandra
05-20-2010, 02:22 AM
This is Altair x Malik fanfiction I wrote a little less than a year ago, I believe.
This does involve two men, it is not graphic, but putting a warning out for those conservative Christians who may happen to stumble upon this story.
-Watch Shift-
Altaïr watched the sleeping body of his friend, slow deep breaths indicating Malik Al-Sayr was fast asleep. Turning away, he kept his steady eye on his surroundings. Now was not the time to gawk at Malik. He needed to keep watch. Several days of traveling, especially when you're being looked for, could be dangerous, so they had decided to keep sleep schedules. He didn't want to rouse Malik from his sleep, though. He looked...peaceful. Strangely calm. Altaïr envied Malik for that reason, he was never able to sleep completely soundly. Every minuscule noise would wake him up. Making a small "hmpf" to himself, Altaïr bit his lip and decided to wake his friend anyway. It was almost time to change shifts, so hopefully he could rouse Malik easily from his peaceful slumber.
"Malik..." He gently shook him. "Malik, wake up, its almost time for your watch shift."
Malik let out a small "mmrrr" and then slowly opened his eyes, revealing large chocolate brown colored irises hazed over with a cloud of sleep. Altaïr bit his lip harder.
"What is it, Altaïr?" He blinked through his sleepy eyes. "Don't tell me you woke me for something completely inane...I'm trying to get my beauty sleep here!"
"Um, no... It's just..." Altaïr cut himself off, as he watched Malik stretch, catching a view of his companion's chest in the half unbuttoned folds of the shirt he was wearing. "Ah..."
"It's what? Altaïr, please start making sense, before I have to beat you with my stump." Malik eyed Altaïr suspiciously.
"Um...It's your...turn...to...undr...I mean..." Altaïr coughed. "Uh, your turn for lookout." His face turned a light shade of pink, and looked away from Malik. Malik sat there, just blinking his eyes at Altaïr. A second later, the light went on, and he ignored the 'oops' that Altaïr had made.
"Oh, it's that time already then. Well, let me get some water, and I'll be ready, all right?" Malik yawned and stretched again, and he could see Altaïr flinch a little. 'I wonder what his problem is...' Malik wondered. As he walked off, he didn't see that the older assassin had turned his head back around to watch, with a pained look in his eyes.
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-thoughts-
"Okay, I'm back," Malik said, as he put his hand on Altaïr's shoulder. "You going to be sleeping tonight, or am I going to have to drug you?" The brunette chuckled at his own little joke.
"Mmf. I'll be fine, Mal." The gray eyed assassin kept trying to avoid the gaze of his friend.
"Wow! Calling me Mal. There must be something wrong." Malik playfully nudged Altaïr. "What troubles the great Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad this evening?"
"It's early morning, Malik." Altaïr managed to finally make eye contact with the brunette.
"Whatever. Same difference." He waved his remaining hand away, like he was sweeping the comment made off somewhere else. "The question still stands. What's the matter? You're acting strange."
"Oh, just thinkin'. 'Bout stuff...and stuff." Altaïr's voice trailed off as he lowered his head.
"Yeah, like that isn't specific, Alty." The younger assassin ruffled through Altaïr's hair. Altaïr bit his lip again; which he noticed, was getting raw fast.
"Alty, huh? It's been quite a long time since you've called me that." Altaïr removed the hood from his head, revealing his granite-gray eyes, lightly tanned skin, and a prominent scar on his mouth. Something really must have been wrong for Altaïr to remove his hood. Malik sat down beside him, just about bordering the 'fine line' of being comfortable. "Well, I guess I should say something at least." Altaïr looked off into the distance, thinking on how to phrase what he wanted to say. "I..uh...eh, its kind of chilly tonight, isn't it?" He said, obviously trying to derail the conversation.
"Listen, Altaïr. If you're not wanting to talk about it, don't bring it up. Whenever you feel comfortable to do so, do it. Get some rest, I'm sure you're tired." Malik replied, giving a slight twitch of his eyelid, in irritation.
"Fine." Altaïr harrumphed, and turned his attention toward the pillows and rugs where his younger companion was just laying. A single thought crossed his mind, and immediately his cheeks flared up. He tried casting the thought away, but it kept resurfacing. Frustrated, he made a slight grunt, slowly lowered his body onto the rugs, and placed his head on a pillow. "Good night, Malik Al-Sayr." He said softly, feeling a wave of exhaustion rise over him.
"Good night, Altaïr. I'll make sure to douse you in water to wake you up." The younger assassin chuckled softly. Altaïr frowned slightly, and slowly lowered his eyelids.
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-travel-
"Yesssss! No more camping!" Malik said with a triumphant smile planted firmly across his face. He packed up his belongings, and rolled up the rugs, while whistling to himself.
"You're rather excited, just for spending the next few nights in an inn..." Altaïr added.
"I'm tired of the desert. I'm tired of these fucking bugs." The brunette replied, fiercely trying to shake out a rug. "A roof over my head right now would be perfect." He continued packing his things onto his horse. For being armless, he sure did a good job, Altaïr noted.
"Simple minds..." Altaïr quipped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You of all people, telling me that... The irony kills me, Altaïr." Malik turned to look at Altaïr, and rolled his eyes at him.
"Hey, I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am, Malik." Altaïr turned away, growing red in the face again. He began rolling his items up and packing them on his horse as well. The rest of the packing was done in silence. Every so often, one of them would sneak a look at their companion, and then look away, embarrassed. Once the older assassin finished his own packing, he approached Malik's horse and held its reins to help the brunette mount his steed. Malik's face turned a bright red, and muttered a few thanks and some other words unrecognizable to Altaïr, they were said so low.
"It was my fault. This is the least I could do." Altaïr frowned, and offered up the reins back to Malik. He gently took them from Altaïr, and steered his horse toward their destination.
"Hurry up, Altaïr." The brunette furrowed his brow, ignoring his friend's statement, and focused on the daunting trip that lay before them. More than anything, he was looking forward to resting with a roof over his head. He heard Altaïr sigh loudly behind him, and gave a slight smirk at the reaction.
"Yes, sir." Altaïr said sarcastically, rolling his eyes toward Malik, and jumping on his horse like a professional acrobat. Jarring the reins and lightly tapping at his mounts side, he set off towards the way home, with Malik close behind.
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-dinner-
It took the pair the majority of the day to make it to their intended destination. On more than a few occasions Altaïr had caught his companion dozing off on his mount. Trying to be as stealthy as one could be on a horse, he had grabbed the reins of the brunette's horse and led it slowly towards the gates of the small village ahead of them. Letting a stable hand attend to their horses, Altaïr led Malik toward the doors of the small hostel.
`"I'd like a room for the night." Altaïr said, in a matter of fact voice.
The man at the desk bowed his head slightly, and spoke. "Yes sir. Please, come this way." He motioned and the pair followed the innkeeper.
"Thank you," nodded Altaïr. "I'll repay you in the morning." The man walked off back towards his post. "All right, Malik. Time for your exulted rest under an actual roof..."
Malik had beaten him to the punch. For being twenty-something, he behaved as if he were no less than ten.
"Do you really have to jump on the fancy bed rolls?" Altaïr sighed.
"Of course! I need to make sure they're worn to my satisfaction." Malik laughed, a twinkle in his brown eyes.
"I swear to Allah, Malik Al-Sayr, you're more prissy than the queen of Sheba." Altaïr sighed, and dropped his stuff in the far corner of the room. He made sure to keep at least one blade nearby him though, just in case of trouble. He couldn't help but let a small smile escape though, after watching Malik behave like a child in front of him. Deciding to be a smart ass, Altaïr spoke again. "So, do you need a massage now, ma'am?"
Malik stopped what he was doing and just stared. "I'm sorry, what?" He said, with an air of false displeasure. Altaïr sighed and shook his head.
"Never mind." Altaïr said as he plopped down onto his bedroll, and removed his boots. "Say, do you want some bread before bed?" He turned his head to look at his companion. "I've a little bit left, some for tomorrow too at least."
"Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry." Malik looked at Altaïr with a wistful expression.
"Well, yeah... you slept the whole way here, no stops. I'm surprised you're even going to think of sleep right now." Altaïr explained.
"I never said I was tired, sir. Just getting the bedroll into shape, that's all." Malik made a small 'harrumph', and looked away dramatically.
"Fine, fine." Altaïr reached into his pack and grabbed the bread. Breaking it up into two pieces, he had an idea. "So, I've got the bread, come and get it."
Malik sighed, as he was trying to pick out a book to immerse himself in. "Do I have to?"
"Yes, Malik. You have to work for your food. You can't just look pretty and expect me to feed you." Altaïr chuckled.
The brunette looked at the elder assassin incredulously. "Seriously?" Altaïr nodded. "You've got to be kidding. I've just settled down."
"Food waits for no reader, my dear Malik." Altaïr grinned. Malik sighed and began to scoot his way towards Altaïr. The older assassin's grin spread as he watched the brunette scoot his way, using his one good arm to provide leverage. Altaïr dangled the bit of bread before Malik. "Come 'n get it, Mal." He winked.
"Damn it, Altaïr. Just give me the piece of bread! I have to finish this book before we get back to Masyaf."
"Ooh, what is it, Mal-Mal? The Kama-Sutra?" Altaïr gave a sultry, playful wink at Malik.
"You are completely insufferable, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad." Malik gave the grey eyed assassin a pout.
"Your pouts won't work on me this evening, I'm afraid." Altaïr stiffened his grin, transforming it into a tight lipped half-smirk.
"Well, what about this?" Malik's voice was surprisingly close. When Altaïr opened his eyes from pretending to be haughty, he was caught unawares.
"Wha...wait, what?" Altaïr blinked.
Malik had positioned himself, somehow, on Altaïr's lap, his face inches away from the elder assassin's face. Propping him self up just-so, he reached out a dark tanned hand, and moved back Altaïr's hood, revealing a slightly blushing assassin.
"So, can I have the bread now?" Malik grinned.
Altaïr was left speechless. "I...uh...er...b...read?" He blinked in astonishment and embarrassment, even though he was happy to be this close to Malik...it felt awkward.
"Yes, you know. That piece of food you were dangling in front of me." Malik let out a sly giggle.
"No...Idea of what you're talking about, Malik..." Altaïr looked dazed.
"So, you're playing dumb now?" Malik giggled.
"No, Mal, just...shocked." Altaïr let out a soft sigh.
"No need to be shocked...yet." Malik said, a smirk on his face. "But maybe..." Malik leaned in, his breath warm on Altaïr's cheeks. For a brief few seconds that felt like hours, their lips brushed with each others, then locked. Altaïr closed his eyes and let himself drown in the moment. After several seconds had passed, Malik moved away, and opened his eyes. Altaïr followed suit shortly after.
"Malik.." Altaïr sighed breathlessly.
"Alty..." Malik replied, his grin replaced with a drunken smile.
Altaïr moved his hand up and gently brushed it against Malik's face. "You still want that bread, Mal?" He winked.
This does involve two men, it is not graphic, but putting a warning out for those conservative Christians who may happen to stumble upon this story.
-Watch Shift-
Altaïr watched the sleeping body of his friend, slow deep breaths indicating Malik Al-Sayr was fast asleep. Turning away, he kept his steady eye on his surroundings. Now was not the time to gawk at Malik. He needed to keep watch. Several days of traveling, especially when you're being looked for, could be dangerous, so they had decided to keep sleep schedules. He didn't want to rouse Malik from his sleep, though. He looked...peaceful. Strangely calm. Altaïr envied Malik for that reason, he was never able to sleep completely soundly. Every minuscule noise would wake him up. Making a small "hmpf" to himself, Altaïr bit his lip and decided to wake his friend anyway. It was almost time to change shifts, so hopefully he could rouse Malik easily from his peaceful slumber.
"Malik..." He gently shook him. "Malik, wake up, its almost time for your watch shift."
Malik let out a small "mmrrr" and then slowly opened his eyes, revealing large chocolate brown colored irises hazed over with a cloud of sleep. Altaïr bit his lip harder.
"What is it, Altaïr?" He blinked through his sleepy eyes. "Don't tell me you woke me for something completely inane...I'm trying to get my beauty sleep here!"
"Um, no... It's just..." Altaïr cut himself off, as he watched Malik stretch, catching a view of his companion's chest in the half unbuttoned folds of the shirt he was wearing. "Ah..."
"It's what? Altaïr, please start making sense, before I have to beat you with my stump." Malik eyed Altaïr suspiciously.
"Um...It's your...turn...to...undr...I mean..." Altaïr coughed. "Uh, your turn for lookout." His face turned a light shade of pink, and looked away from Malik. Malik sat there, just blinking his eyes at Altaïr. A second later, the light went on, and he ignored the 'oops' that Altaïr had made.
"Oh, it's that time already then. Well, let me get some water, and I'll be ready, all right?" Malik yawned and stretched again, and he could see Altaïr flinch a little. 'I wonder what his problem is...' Malik wondered. As he walked off, he didn't see that the older assassin had turned his head back around to watch, with a pained look in his eyes.
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-thoughts-
"Okay, I'm back," Malik said, as he put his hand on Altaïr's shoulder. "You going to be sleeping tonight, or am I going to have to drug you?" The brunette chuckled at his own little joke.
"Mmf. I'll be fine, Mal." The gray eyed assassin kept trying to avoid the gaze of his friend.
"Wow! Calling me Mal. There must be something wrong." Malik playfully nudged Altaïr. "What troubles the great Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad this evening?"
"It's early morning, Malik." Altaïr managed to finally make eye contact with the brunette.
"Whatever. Same difference." He waved his remaining hand away, like he was sweeping the comment made off somewhere else. "The question still stands. What's the matter? You're acting strange."
"Oh, just thinkin'. 'Bout stuff...and stuff." Altaïr's voice trailed off as he lowered his head.
"Yeah, like that isn't specific, Alty." The younger assassin ruffled through Altaïr's hair. Altaïr bit his lip again; which he noticed, was getting raw fast.
"Alty, huh? It's been quite a long time since you've called me that." Altaïr removed the hood from his head, revealing his granite-gray eyes, lightly tanned skin, and a prominent scar on his mouth. Something really must have been wrong for Altaïr to remove his hood. Malik sat down beside him, just about bordering the 'fine line' of being comfortable. "Well, I guess I should say something at least." Altaïr looked off into the distance, thinking on how to phrase what he wanted to say. "I..uh...eh, its kind of chilly tonight, isn't it?" He said, obviously trying to derail the conversation.
"Listen, Altaïr. If you're not wanting to talk about it, don't bring it up. Whenever you feel comfortable to do so, do it. Get some rest, I'm sure you're tired." Malik replied, giving a slight twitch of his eyelid, in irritation.
"Fine." Altaïr harrumphed, and turned his attention toward the pillows and rugs where his younger companion was just laying. A single thought crossed his mind, and immediately his cheeks flared up. He tried casting the thought away, but it kept resurfacing. Frustrated, he made a slight grunt, slowly lowered his body onto the rugs, and placed his head on a pillow. "Good night, Malik Al-Sayr." He said softly, feeling a wave of exhaustion rise over him.
"Good night, Altaïr. I'll make sure to douse you in water to wake you up." The younger assassin chuckled softly. Altaïr frowned slightly, and slowly lowered his eyelids.
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-travel-
"Yesssss! No more camping!" Malik said with a triumphant smile planted firmly across his face. He packed up his belongings, and rolled up the rugs, while whistling to himself.
"You're rather excited, just for spending the next few nights in an inn..." Altaïr added.
"I'm tired of the desert. I'm tired of these fucking bugs." The brunette replied, fiercely trying to shake out a rug. "A roof over my head right now would be perfect." He continued packing his things onto his horse. For being armless, he sure did a good job, Altaïr noted.
"Simple minds..." Altaïr quipped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You of all people, telling me that... The irony kills me, Altaïr." Malik turned to look at Altaïr, and rolled his eyes at him.
"Hey, I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am, Malik." Altaïr turned away, growing red in the face again. He began rolling his items up and packing them on his horse as well. The rest of the packing was done in silence. Every so often, one of them would sneak a look at their companion, and then look away, embarrassed. Once the older assassin finished his own packing, he approached Malik's horse and held its reins to help the brunette mount his steed. Malik's face turned a bright red, and muttered a few thanks and some other words unrecognizable to Altaïr, they were said so low.
"It was my fault. This is the least I could do." Altaïr frowned, and offered up the reins back to Malik. He gently took them from Altaïr, and steered his horse toward their destination.
"Hurry up, Altaïr." The brunette furrowed his brow, ignoring his friend's statement, and focused on the daunting trip that lay before them. More than anything, he was looking forward to resting with a roof over his head. He heard Altaïr sigh loudly behind him, and gave a slight smirk at the reaction.
"Yes, sir." Altaïr said sarcastically, rolling his eyes toward Malik, and jumping on his horse like a professional acrobat. Jarring the reins and lightly tapping at his mounts side, he set off towards the way home, with Malik close behind.
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-dinner-
It took the pair the majority of the day to make it to their intended destination. On more than a few occasions Altaïr had caught his companion dozing off on his mount. Trying to be as stealthy as one could be on a horse, he had grabbed the reins of the brunette's horse and led it slowly towards the gates of the small village ahead of them. Letting a stable hand attend to their horses, Altaïr led Malik toward the doors of the small hostel.
`"I'd like a room for the night." Altaïr said, in a matter of fact voice.
The man at the desk bowed his head slightly, and spoke. "Yes sir. Please, come this way." He motioned and the pair followed the innkeeper.
"Thank you," nodded Altaïr. "I'll repay you in the morning." The man walked off back towards his post. "All right, Malik. Time for your exulted rest under an actual roof..."
Malik had beaten him to the punch. For being twenty-something, he behaved as if he were no less than ten.
"Do you really have to jump on the fancy bed rolls?" Altaïr sighed.
"Of course! I need to make sure they're worn to my satisfaction." Malik laughed, a twinkle in his brown eyes.
"I swear to Allah, Malik Al-Sayr, you're more prissy than the queen of Sheba." Altaïr sighed, and dropped his stuff in the far corner of the room. He made sure to keep at least one blade nearby him though, just in case of trouble. He couldn't help but let a small smile escape though, after watching Malik behave like a child in front of him. Deciding to be a smart ass, Altaïr spoke again. "So, do you need a massage now, ma'am?"
Malik stopped what he was doing and just stared. "I'm sorry, what?" He said, with an air of false displeasure. Altaïr sighed and shook his head.
"Never mind." Altaïr said as he plopped down onto his bedroll, and removed his boots. "Say, do you want some bread before bed?" He turned his head to look at his companion. "I've a little bit left, some for tomorrow too at least."
"Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry." Malik looked at Altaïr with a wistful expression.
"Well, yeah... you slept the whole way here, no stops. I'm surprised you're even going to think of sleep right now." Altaïr explained.
"I never said I was tired, sir. Just getting the bedroll into shape, that's all." Malik made a small 'harrumph', and looked away dramatically.
"Fine, fine." Altaïr reached into his pack and grabbed the bread. Breaking it up into two pieces, he had an idea. "So, I've got the bread, come and get it."
Malik sighed, as he was trying to pick out a book to immerse himself in. "Do I have to?"
"Yes, Malik. You have to work for your food. You can't just look pretty and expect me to feed you." Altaïr chuckled.
The brunette looked at the elder assassin incredulously. "Seriously?" Altaïr nodded. "You've got to be kidding. I've just settled down."
"Food waits for no reader, my dear Malik." Altaïr grinned. Malik sighed and began to scoot his way towards Altaïr. The older assassin's grin spread as he watched the brunette scoot his way, using his one good arm to provide leverage. Altaïr dangled the bit of bread before Malik. "Come 'n get it, Mal." He winked.
"Damn it, Altaïr. Just give me the piece of bread! I have to finish this book before we get back to Masyaf."
"Ooh, what is it, Mal-Mal? The Kama-Sutra?" Altaïr gave a sultry, playful wink at Malik.
"You are completely insufferable, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad." Malik gave the grey eyed assassin a pout.
"Your pouts won't work on me this evening, I'm afraid." Altaïr stiffened his grin, transforming it into a tight lipped half-smirk.
"Well, what about this?" Malik's voice was surprisingly close. When Altaïr opened his eyes from pretending to be haughty, he was caught unawares.
"Wha...wait, what?" Altaïr blinked.
Malik had positioned himself, somehow, on Altaïr's lap, his face inches away from the elder assassin's face. Propping him self up just-so, he reached out a dark tanned hand, and moved back Altaïr's hood, revealing a slightly blushing assassin.
"So, can I have the bread now?" Malik grinned.
Altaïr was left speechless. "I...uh...er...b...read?" He blinked in astonishment and embarrassment, even though he was happy to be this close to Malik...it felt awkward.
"Yes, you know. That piece of food you were dangling in front of me." Malik let out a sly giggle.
"No...Idea of what you're talking about, Malik..." Altaïr looked dazed.
"So, you're playing dumb now?" Malik giggled.
"No, Mal, just...shocked." Altaïr let out a soft sigh.
"No need to be shocked...yet." Malik said, a smirk on his face. "But maybe..." Malik leaned in, his breath warm on Altaïr's cheeks. For a brief few seconds that felt like hours, their lips brushed with each others, then locked. Altaïr closed his eyes and let himself drown in the moment. After several seconds had passed, Malik moved away, and opened his eyes. Altaïr followed suit shortly after.
"Malik.." Altaïr sighed breathlessly.
"Alty..." Malik replied, his grin replaced with a drunken smile.
Altaïr moved his hand up and gently brushed it against Malik's face. "You still want that bread, Mal?" He winked.