Archive of Our Own

Malik does not stop writing, even as the door creaks open behind him. Without looking up from his work, he speaks with great irritation coloring his voice. “I thought I said I wasn’t to be disturbed for the rest of the day. What about that was unclear, I wonder?”

For a moment, there is no response. Although the door clicks shut softly, Malik knows better than to assume the intruder has left him in peace. Frustrated, Malik clenches his quill harder and opens his mouth to continue berating whomever it is that has decided to pester him against his explicit wishes when-

“I wasn’t aware such demands applied to me as well.” The new Grand Master’s tone is dark and Malik feels his heat stutter sickly.

Don’t look at him; don’t even turn around, Malik thinks, mind racing.

“Oh? I’m sorry, I would have sent you a messenger pigeon to make sure you understood, but then I realized you probably would never read it while you are so self-absorbed with your glowing toy,” Malik hisses, hunching forward further to scribble something unintelligible.

Pair of warm hands descend upon his shoulders and Malik flinches at the touch. He didn’t even hear Altair move from the doorway. Still refusing to look over his shoulder, Malik stubbornly continues to stare down at the parchment below him blankly. He sees the words before him, but none of them are being read, his mind elsewhere, on the hands currently sliding down his back.

“Hm. Well, as you can see, I am not in my office right now, am I?”

One of Altair’s hands slides underneath Malik’s clothing and Malik feels his breath catch as he becomes painfully aware of the body pressed up behind him intimately. The hand under his clothing is moving down past his hip, down to caress the soft flesh of his-

Malik jolts away, flushing. He spins in mid motion, glaring at his former rival. “What do you want? I cannot imagine how you were able to pry yourself from your precious Apple.”

 Altair lowers his hood, a motion that Malik is painfully aware of. The man usually hides beneath it, never showing his emotions. When the hood is gone it’s like looking at a storm raging across the desert; violent and beautiful in the most intense of ways. Altair’s eyes are light and dark all at once, the intensity of his gaze sucking away the air in Malik’s chest despite his fury at being bothered by the man who drove him into self-confinement in the first place.

The Grand Master tilts his head just so, looking up at Malik from under suspiciously lowered lids. His voice is smooth and low as he speaks again. “I thought it was obvious why I came. Do I really need to explain myself? I will if I must.”

Malik takes a step back and Altair takes two forward. The former Dai sneers, gesturing wildly with his one arm in anger, his voice cracking with emotion as he speaks. “Oh, now you feel like explaining yourself, you feel like talking? What about earlier, when I needed your help with running the forsaken brotherhood? What about the matter on destroying the Apple, how you shut down and refused to hear anyone’s words? Hm? What is it you want now, Altair, oh most Exalted Master of the Keep? Why is it the moment you fall out of my favor you suddenly have the urge to talk?”

Another step forward. Malik can’t pretend he doesn’t see the way Altair slowly stalks him around Malik’s office. Altair’s eyes are like fire, burning and hungry; his gaze seems to eat Malik alive. “Could you stand still, Malik? I’m trying to talk to you.”

Shaking his head, Malik moves away from the bed, not missing Altair’s veiled glance at it. This is, of course, Malik’s official bedroom and office. However, unofficially, Malik doesn’t always sleep here and when he does it is because he’s tired of present company. “Why would I stand still when I know speaking isn’t the only thing you have in mind?”

It isn’t that hard to guess. The heat in Altair’s eyes isn’t purely irritation about their latest fight over the Apple. A ghost like smile flits over Altair’s scarred lips and he says, “You will stand still because I want you to.”

Ah, arrogance. Never far from Altair’s heart is it? As Malik is rolling this new irritation over in his mind, Altair moves like a snake, leaping over the table between them, tumbling half of Malik’s papers onto the floor. Great, now I must clean that up later and reorganize, Malik thinks absentmindedly as Altair yanks him into his firm embrace.

An embrace that feels like a prison, some days.

Malik sighs as Altair’s mouth finds his neck, gently nibbling at first, licking and sucking marks with disregard for the consequences. If feels good, the attention, the warmth of Altair all around him, his scent. Then, a particularly harsh bite to the place where his neck meets his shoulder brings Malik to his sense once again. Yelping, he tries to jerk away. “Stop that,” Altair growls into his neck as he sinks his teeth in more, tightening his arms.

“This is not going to fix the problem, Altair! Allah above, you cannot come in here and claim me for your own when I do not want you!” Malik shouts furiously, ready to crack his skull against Altair’s.

Altair snaps his head back, a stricken look on his face. Malik briefly wonders if the expression is being faked. “Since when do you not want me? You are trembling in my arms; your cock is hard and pressed against mine.”

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Malik glares at the man holding him. “I’m a man. I can’t help what my body does when you force reactions from it!”

“Nevertheless, you enjoy being with me. What is the problem now?”

Malik keeps his face from showing how stupid he thinks Altair is. “Don’t play games with me. You know what the problem is. The Apple has made an obsessed man out of you. It can bring nothing good to us, yet you continue to slave over it. I cannot stay here by your side and watch you destroy yourself. I’m done with it Altair.”

For the first time, Malik sees something akin to panic flicker in Altair’s bright eyes. Ah, so I have found something that bothers you after all. You don’t want me to leave, do you, Malik muses as he stares into Altair’s face, searching for any change in expression.

“I’ll stop, I’ll destroy it. Believe me, I only need it for a little longer,” Altair says heatedly, his eyes blazing.

The words seem real, but Malik knows that even Altair doesn’t believe in them. “You are such an unrepentant liar. Why do you say these things to me when you don’t even mean them?

Altair is silent for a moment, his eyes briefly displaying his shock. Did you really think it would be that easy to sway me, old friend, Malik thinks unhappily.

“I’m not lying, I always mean what I say,” Altair replies, looking at the floor briefly as he steps back.

But Malik knows that they both know the truth. Altair only says what he thinks Malik wants to hear. He knows Altair will say or do anything he has to in order to get what he wants. The man has no shame, he has a very small conscience and his moral compass is rather skewed, always has been. Always, like a child, Altair does what he must to achieve his ends. 

“I think you should leave, Altair. I have no desire to speak to you, or anyone right now,” Malik says quietly.

The look that comes into Altair’s eyes isn’t pleasant. It’s dangerous and has a hint of desperation in it, not a good combination in any case. “I don’t recall ever giving you the power to dismiss me. I’m the Grand Master of this order and if I say the Apple will be destroyed, it will be done. When I will it.”

Malik opens his mouth to continue arguing, to call Altair a filthy liar again, but Altair lunges at him, dragging him over to the bed in the far corner. “How dare you!” Malik snarls as Altair pins him on his back, ripping at his clothes fiercely.

The emotion in Altair’s eyes is dark and predatory. “Oh, I dare,” he hisses, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the room.

Malik makes as if to take a swing at Altair’s stubborn skull, but Altair only swats his hand away. “You will get over this…moment of irritation or whatever is the matter with you. You will come back to my bed tonight, where you belong.”

Off goes Malik’s shirt. Then his breeches. He watches in vague horror as Altair’s clothing joins his on the floor. There is no stopping it at this point. Malik is a good fighter, but Altair has him pinned on his back and Altair is very strong, built like a bull where Malik is sleek. Malik is furious over this, furious over his own weakness, his inability to prevent Altair from taking what he wants. “I don’t ‘belong’ in your bed! What am I, your wife?”

Altair rests his naked body against Malik’s, causing them both to gasp in pleasure. Despite being angry, Malik can’t help his body’s reaction to Altair; it knows the pleasure Altair can bring, the wonderful oblivion. Altair nips at his lips and says, “No, you are my second in command. You belong with me regardless.”

They kiss, angry and passionate, teeth and tongues all mashed together violently. Altair moans into Malik’s mouth and runs a hand down his body to play with Malik’s rapidly growing erection. Malik cries out into his mouth, heat filling his stomach. He turns his head to kiss and lick at Altair’s neck as the other man bares it to him, sighing with pleasure.

They kiss for what feels like hours, bodies straining against one another. The anger fuels them, the irritation, it makes the emotions of lust and passion skyrocket even more, amplifying them. Malik wants to scratch Altair till he bleeds, but at the same time he wants to present himself to his extremely dominant lover and let him have what he so desperately wants.

He’s seen Altair beg, just like any other mortal.

“Turn over,” Altair utters huskily, sitting back, his eyes dilated with desire.

Malik obeys with a single, unconvincing glare. He’s got pride, after all. It’s been days though; he can’t deny his body wants Altair again, despite being angry. He’s missed him, missed Altair while the stupid man drools over an inanimate object. He should have known this would happen, that Altair would come crawling back if there was so much as a hint in the wind of Malik returning to his post in Jerusalem.

He should have known that Altair would say or do anything to keep him. Even lie. As always.

Raising his ass high in the air, Malik tries to find a good position for his head to rest in. Sometimes, the sheets just get in the way. As he is still struggling, he vaguely wonders when Altair is going to get on with it. There is an unbearable moment of no skin contact, and then finally Altair reaches out to him. The firm hands spread his cheeks, completely exposing Malik to Altair’s heated gaze. Malik turns his head to the side so he can breathe better; slightly tensing up since he expects Altair will be shoving a finger in him at any moment, but something else entirely happens. He feels a warm wetness caress the tight bud of his anus, licking and gently thrusting in and out. Malik feels his body completely go boneless at the sensation and his face flushes. “Oh…mhm…Altair? Oh…Allah don’t do that.”

Malik’s arguments are quickly evaporating out of his head as Altair continues to seemingly worship his ass. The loud slurping noises are making Malik even harder and he’s so embarrassed and turned on all at once. This isn’t something Altair has ever done before. His cock is dripping his own precum juices onto the sheets already and Malik wants to palm himself to alleviate the ache but he would lose his balance.

Moaning like a whore into the sheets, Malik pushes back towards Altair’s tongue, almost begging for more when the other man pulls back and returns with oil, gently dipping it deep inside Malik. The former Dai shudders as Altair adds another finger, slowly thrusting them in and out, fingertips caressing the membranes of his insides, causing his heart to race even faster. Another finger joins it and there is some more discomfort, but after a few minutes it alleviates, especially as Altair begins tonguing him again aggressively.

Suddenly, Altair’s cock is in front of Malik’s face and Malik glares up at him in disbelief. “That’s what we have the oil for, you ignoramus!”

Altair smirks softly, running his cock across Malik’s lips gently. “I know. But I want to see your lips wrapped around my cock for a few moments. You know how I like watching you pleasure me.”

Malik rolls his eyes dramatically, but gently licks the head of Altair’s dripping cock, tasting the saltiness there. Taking the sensitive head into his mouth entirely, Malik applies suction, playing with Altair’s balls and the base of his cock at the same time. He glances up from his work, just to watch as Altair’s eyes seem to roll back in his head as he moans loudly. Malik would grin if his mouth wasn’t full of cock.

He continues slurping for a few minutes more, enjoying the way Altair begins to gently thrust his hips against his mouth, head back, silently begging for more. Then, Altair jerks away quickly, “Allah, you have a gift with that. Almost spilled in your mouth. Can’t have that can we?”

Malik doesn’t have time to respond because Altair is turning him over roughly again onto his stomach. Altair rubs more oil onto his large erection liberally, and then slowly positions himself at Malik’s entrance, gently teasing it with his large mushroom headed tip, coating it with the precum dripping there. “I’m not a woman, Altair!” Malik hisses furiously and almost chokes on his words as Altair thrusts in swiftly.

Altair groans, both hands tightly holding Malik’s hips as he grinds against Malik from behind. Malik feels full, can feel Altair’s fucking heart beat in his cock as all his blood rushes there. His whole body is on fire and he just wants Altair to move, to thrust in and out nice and slow until they can’t take it anymore…

Pushing his hips back hard, Malik wordlessly lets his partner know what he wants. There is a sharp bite to one of his shoulders as Altair begins moving, long slow glides that went deep, oh so deep inside of Malik. Altair knows just how to make him melt in his arms, when he tries of course. He could charm anyone, if he put his mind to it. “Ahh….mhm, you’re so tight, as always,” Altair whispers reverently as he puts more marks across Malik’s back.

“Those…better not…be where anyone can see them,” Malik hisses even as he meets each deliciously slow thrust.

There is no response to that. But that’s alright, because the tip of Altair’s cock keeps glancing off that spot in Malik that drives him crazy. Malik grips the sheets harder, listening as Altair hoarsely whispers words into his ear as he thrusts, I need you, I want you, please don’t be mad, fucking love the way you feel, I’m sorry…

Groaning in pleasure and despair all at once, Malik arches his back, trying to meet Altair’s increasingly rough movements. He wants to crawl into Altair’s skin, wants to become one with him and run far, far away all at the same time. With one hand still gripping Malik’s hip hard, Altair reaches around and caresses Malik’s stomach gently before moving down to grip his aching cock, slick with precum and desire.

“Ah…yes…Al-”

Whining in response Malik’s urgent pleas, Altair loses his rhythm slightly, jerking so hard against Malik’s rear that his balls slap hard against his skin. “Say it…say my name…say my fucking name…” Altair gasps harshly, tugging at Malik’s erection roughly.

Malik bites his lip so he can’t, he won’t give Altair the satisfaction. He moans into the sheets and gasps every time Altair strokes in and out fully, fire coursing through Malik’s frame. He is delirious with pleasure, the way Altair handles his cock and cups his balls, the way Altair shifts so that he hits that spot inside Malik that makes him see stars.

The sound of their harsh breathing and skin slapping echoes loudly in the room and Malik briefly hopes no one walks by his office any time soon. There has always been…a suspicion of his and Altair’s relationship, but no one has ever caught them in the act before.

But Allah, if someone has to, please let it be Rauf. He would probably laugh and make some sort of horribly awkward joke…

The tone of Altair’s grunts and gasps is changing rapidly and Malik recognizes that his lover is nearing his climax. It is only confirmed when Altair uses his hand on Malik’s hip to pull Malik back harder to meet his thrusts. “I…want you…to cum with me…ah Malik please…let me spill in you…”

Malik feels his stomach tighten at Altair’s words and his turns his head a little more so that Altair can kiss him passionately, his tongue shoved so far into Malik’s mouth that he fears he will suffocate, but Allah it’s so good. “Then make me cum for you, Grand Master. Empty yourself into me,” Malik gasps into Altair’s mouth, because he wants it, damn him he always wants what Altair can offer.

Altair pulls away from his mouth and angles his hips once more, thrusting and grinding against Malik in a way that he knows his lover enjoys. With one particular snap of Altair’s hips, Malik’s vision almost goes white and he cries out sharply, practically weeping as he feels his release spill all over Altair’s dedicated hand, still holding his cock. He knows he is clenching around Altair, his insides spasming around Altair’s cock and within seconds of Malik releasing, Altair is shouting out his own climax, you’re mine, you’re mine alone, don’t ever leave me, and Malik can feel the warm spurt of seed filling him.

Altair collapses bonelessly on Malik’s back, causing them both to flatten completely on the bed as Malik can’t support both their weights. Malik’s inhales deeply, trying to take in more air that seems to be evading him as Altair licks a trail across his shoulders. Altair shifts a little so that Malik can move out from under him just a little, but not enough, as he is unwilling to relinquish his spot above him quite yet. Malik winces as the movement causes a little ache in his rear as he realizes Altair is still slightly firm inside him, semen leaking out from around Altair's cock and down Malik's thighs.

Malik tries to wiggle away, but Altair only grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, making sure the connection between them continues. They are silent for a few moments, with their hearts still racing and sweat soaking the sheets beneath them.

“Forgive me,” Altair breathes against his skin and the words could be about everything and nothing all at once.

A shiver works its way through Malik’s frame at the soft sensation of Altair gently kissing the back of his neck. Malik closes his eyes and allows the Grand Master of Masyaf hold him close, whispering words of adoration and desperate apologies. This is the Altair no one else sees, the one that Malik doesn’t really believe exists. He often wonders if this face of Altair is just another lie, one that kisses and speaks like a lover just to enfold Malik back into his twisted web of sin and despair, where Altair is Lord and Master of everything and everyone.

Oh, but this is his guilty pleasure. Allah knows- Malik forgives him every time. He’d forgive Altair for just about anything, even over the Apple.

And he hates it.

Although Malik can’t see it, he can feel it, the way Altair’s mouth moves into that heartless shark grin of his, teeth hard against Malik’s skin as he feels Malik give in. Somehow it feels like losing.

Perhaps it is.

Malik lies in silence as Altair’s breathing begins to slow beside him. The one armed man absently runs his hand through Altair’s hair, feeling the softness of it on his fingertips. “So selfish,” Malik whispers.

For once Altair doesn’t argue.