Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed and all of its characters are property of UbiSoft. I do not profit from it, apart from getting entertainment from doing my fanfiction and improving on my language and writing skills. Also, all events and characters are purely fictitious and any similarities to people or events in real life are purely coincidental.
This initially started off as a conversation with SmileBot, which steered to joking about the Assassin's Creed section being flooded with PWP, which steered to the topic on Altair and Malik pairing, to our RP on some some AltairxMalik romping (private joke between us).
I had to stop through this halfway because, as much as I have no isue with gay people, imagining graphic mansecks is not something I enjoy. And it makes me queasy... D:
But since this little mayhem-filled ficlet is something I'm using to try out other genres and categories of writing, I'll post up the third and (probably) final instalment soon.
There, in all of the shameless glory and zeal in the world, lay the cursed man, his lean frame situated among the many pillows of the makeshift bed to the haze of desire and victory - the attributes tainted his austere mockery without a streak of hesitation. A small grin, the start, and it soon spread into diabolical chicanery, a path sans warning as a calloused digit traced down the contours of a muscled chest drizzled and glistening in honey.
Malik stood at the doorway, shell-shocked.
If anyone told him that one's mind couldn't accomplish the logistics of being both blank and running a hundred miles an hour at the same time, he'd smack them up the head and run them through with his blade ten times over. Or maybe he'd just leave them alone and head straight to the man before him. He decided he favoured the latter option.
He felt his breath coming shorter as he drank in the sight.
Altair.
Was.
Naked.
With.
Honey.
The next thought that came to mind cooled his rapidly stirring arousal. Just slightly.
On my pillows.
My expensive pillows.
My expensive pillows which I just washed this morning.
With that, in spite of the arousal plainly flashed across his face, Malik stepped forward promising death in his eyes, "Altair..."
Said man watched with amusement at Malik's frown, twitching left eye and the impressive tentage. Hesensually quirked his lips. "Yes, rafiq?"
Hell: This was going better than he had initially expected.
"Altair... "
Too easy.
"Come, join me," he demanded in a deviant fashion, extending his arm out beckoningly as he settled back even further against the cool linen pillows.
Stretching out languidly and spreading legs slightly further, he allowed his beckoning hand to rest on his thigh, just below his twitching member. "Two can enjoy such play."
"Altair..."
Malik growled as he stepped even closer. Fists clenched and unclenched.
Such impudence!
With dark eyes and flushed face, Malik sat down cross-legged beside Altair and stared expressionlessly at him.
"Altair..."
A warm hand was placed upon Altair's sticky chest.
Honey flowed down with great viscosity from Altair's chest to pool and flow over the hand. Altair licked his lips hungrily as he hawkishly stared at the honey trailing thinly down the hand on his chest. Malik's already twitching left eye twitched further when a drop of the golden syrup landed onto one of his pillows.
Leaning closer and shifting his body to pin Altair down, much to said person's oblivious pleasure, Malik placed his hand onto Altair's shoulder to steady himself. Accidentally rubbing his rear onto Altair's rising member, he ignored the stifled moan he heard and increased heartbeat he felt on his fingertips and settled on bent knees. Altair closed his eyes as the hand shifted from his chest to stroke his neck languidly.
Then all hell broke loose.
Throttling Altair with that one hand, and with surprising strength, Malik roared, "Foolish novice! First, you break every LAST inkpot I had in stock. Then you molest me. And now you drip your damned honey all over my pillows? My freshly washed pillows?"
Baring teeth and nose flaring, Malik released Altair and allowed him to fall back onto the relatively sticky pillows now. Breathing evenly and up close now, he could finally fully take in what was before him.
To finally take in two very important details: Altair's chest and face were greatly flushed with arousal. And pupils with sepia eyes were dark and dialated.
Someone either had an odd kink for asphyxiophilia or he just took some perverse pleasure in pissing him off.
Drawing a shaky breath and leaning backwards in incredulity, he felt something poke him in the rump. Eyes widened as the thought of what it was processed within Malik's mind. "Oh."
Observing the prone assassin before him closely, he took note of the sweat that was beginning to dot Altair's forehead and the chest that was heaving up and down as he steadily drew in the air he had been deprived of moments before.
Eyes glazing over as he felt his body temperature spike once more, Malik leaned forward and placed a hand onto Altair's very sticky body. A sudden curiousity filled Malik at what Altair would taste like. Leaning forward, a tongue dipped out to lap at the syrup that was slowly flowing off Altair's chest. Humming his approval and licking a pectoral further, Malik decided he did like the combination of Altair and honey.
Altair slowly thread fingers through coarsely cropped hair and let out a guttural groan. "M-Malik," another mroan, "ugh, yes... "
Malik harshly bit down into a dusky nipple, "Silence, novice: Your input is not needed in my-"
And his eyes widened.
Oh, whatever god out there have mercy.
He should've known such masochism to override rationality.
All he saw was a devious and impish grin before he was flipped over and pinned down by the much heavier weight of Altair.
"Got you."
Malik shivered as Altair whispered hotly in his ear.
"You strung me up."
He was seperated from his robes swiftly and the material was chucked roughly into a corner.
"Got me all hot and bothered."
A harsh nip on the jaw.
"Then left me alone."
Malik barely bit back a moan and jerked as a bold hand slipped into his breeches.
"I could think of so many ways to punish you."
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