DJ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
djsoliloquy) wrote2011-09-25 10:36 pm
djsoliloquy) wrote2011-09-25 10:36 pm
Entry tags:
letting it settle (Assassin's Creed, Altair/Malik)
Title: letting it settle
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
djsoliloquy
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Altair/Malik.
Summary: Malik eats way too much of Altair's cooking, followed by comfort cuddles to combat tummy aches.
Malik groaned and lowered himself to his back upon the carpet after trying to stand. Altair smiled down at him. “You should not have eaten so much, Malik. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be!”
Night air flowed through the Grandmaster’s quarters, cooling the rooms and dispersing the scent of food. Altair went to secure the rooms while Malik curled onto his side by the desk, holding his arm around his middle. “Besides,” he said with some effort, “I’m not convinced you were the one to prepare it in the first place, Altair. Your taste in food has always been alarming. Or should I say lack of taste?”
He made a small, pained sound as Altair helped him to one of the innermost rooms, the one with the bed and the soft rug. Malik sighed, undoubtedly cross at being half-carried and helped into bed, though he held out his hand when Altair offered to wash it with a damp cloth. “I always hoped if you decided to kill me it would be more dignified than assassination by goat and assorted spices.”
Altair glanced into his face. “Yes, but then you always did have a great deal of confidence in me.” He bowed his head, unable to push the smile from his lips after catching sight of Malik’s own smirk. He placed his hand on Malik’s side and joined him on the cushions, pressing up behind him with care. “Peace, brother. Try to breathe through it.”
The ribs under his hand expanded laboriously when Malik inhaled, contracting again with a groan. Altair reached around him, thumbing open the robe and brushing Malik’s chest with the pads of his fingers, and Malik was almost arching back into the touch as they both shifted against each other, found their place.
Altair took his time, pulling up Malik’s clothes and reacquainting himself with the exposed skin. The harsh angle of a hipbone here, the temporary curve to the usually flat stomach just there, gently rubbing over the ache in small warm circles and occasionally lower, filling his palm with the soft swell between Malik’s legs. Malik’s breathing deepened until it felt as though he were sleeping.
“Do you think this will get you out of trouble?” Malik asked, very much awake. Altair drew light paths across his belly, pressing kisses against his shoulder, not sure if Malik could feel them through the shoulder of his robe. “Altair, this will not—oh.” He uttered a quiet moan, and Altair dropped his hand down to continue stroking small gentle circles over skin. “Even if it was edible and I have not heard any complaints from anyone else who ate…”
“Yes?”
“Be quiet. Give me a moment,” Malik ended with less authority than he had probably hoped for.
In the midst of sweet gastronomic agony, Malik still remained one of the more dangerous men Altair knew. Even so, such an opportunity did not arise often. He lightly dragged his fingers over Malik’s thigh, humming a vague response as he smoothed a path along the line of the arm still covering Malik’s face. “Altair?” Malik said, turning back to look at him.
“Hush.” He spooned up behind Malik a little more snugly and smiled when Malik settled into the touch. “Keep your arm over your head like that… yes, that’s it,” he said, reassuring and opening the rest of the cloth down Malik’s chest, dragging his hand down until he was rewarded with a shiver, the body pressed all along his strained and stretching for him, arching. “That’s it, Malik.”
The quiet moans had a different texture to them now. “I have had a thought.” Malik’s voice was rough, wonderful to listen to.
Altair pressed his lips to the soft secret place behind the shell of his ear. Even Malik’s skin had begun to taste of garlic, jasmine. “What was this thought?”
“Even if the result ended in disaster, as it tends to with you,” Malik considered, “and even if you have real responsibilities now and better things to do with your time…”
“Is there an end to this thought?”
“Perhaps if you had the patience to wait.” The strong muscles cording in his shoulders as he shifted. “I’m still not used to you doing these simple selfless things. If it was selfless,” he said wryly.
“Malik, what else could it have possibly been?”
Altair busied himself finding a place to kiss on Malik’s nape that would make him fall silent. Malik snorted instead. “If the meal was purely for this, Altair, trust me when I say you do not have long to live.”
“Then it was mostly selfless,” Altair assured him, and whether he finds the right place to kiss or not, Malik is too distracted to raise much of an objection after that anyway.
Author:
djsoliloquyFandom: Assassin’s Creed.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Altair/Malik.
Summary: Malik eats way too much of Altair's cooking, followed by comfort cuddles to combat tummy aches.
Malik groaned and lowered himself to his back upon the carpet after trying to stand. Altair smiled down at him. “You should not have eaten so much, Malik. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be!”
Night air flowed through the Grandmaster’s quarters, cooling the rooms and dispersing the scent of food. Altair went to secure the rooms while Malik curled onto his side by the desk, holding his arm around his middle. “Besides,” he said with some effort, “I’m not convinced you were the one to prepare it in the first place, Altair. Your taste in food has always been alarming. Or should I say lack of taste?”
He made a small, pained sound as Altair helped him to one of the innermost rooms, the one with the bed and the soft rug. Malik sighed, undoubtedly cross at being half-carried and helped into bed, though he held out his hand when Altair offered to wash it with a damp cloth. “I always hoped if you decided to kill me it would be more dignified than assassination by goat and assorted spices.”
Altair glanced into his face. “Yes, but then you always did have a great deal of confidence in me.” He bowed his head, unable to push the smile from his lips after catching sight of Malik’s own smirk. He placed his hand on Malik’s side and joined him on the cushions, pressing up behind him with care. “Peace, brother. Try to breathe through it.”
The ribs under his hand expanded laboriously when Malik inhaled, contracting again with a groan. Altair reached around him, thumbing open the robe and brushing Malik’s chest with the pads of his fingers, and Malik was almost arching back into the touch as they both shifted against each other, found their place.
Altair took his time, pulling up Malik’s clothes and reacquainting himself with the exposed skin. The harsh angle of a hipbone here, the temporary curve to the usually flat stomach just there, gently rubbing over the ache in small warm circles and occasionally lower, filling his palm with the soft swell between Malik’s legs. Malik’s breathing deepened until it felt as though he were sleeping.
“Do you think this will get you out of trouble?” Malik asked, very much awake. Altair drew light paths across his belly, pressing kisses against his shoulder, not sure if Malik could feel them through the shoulder of his robe. “Altair, this will not—oh.” He uttered a quiet moan, and Altair dropped his hand down to continue stroking small gentle circles over skin. “Even if it was edible and I have not heard any complaints from anyone else who ate…”
“Yes?”
“Be quiet. Give me a moment,” Malik ended with less authority than he had probably hoped for.
In the midst of sweet gastronomic agony, Malik still remained one of the more dangerous men Altair knew. Even so, such an opportunity did not arise often. He lightly dragged his fingers over Malik’s thigh, humming a vague response as he smoothed a path along the line of the arm still covering Malik’s face. “Altair?” Malik said, turning back to look at him.
“Hush.” He spooned up behind Malik a little more snugly and smiled when Malik settled into the touch. “Keep your arm over your head like that… yes, that’s it,” he said, reassuring and opening the rest of the cloth down Malik’s chest, dragging his hand down until he was rewarded with a shiver, the body pressed all along his strained and stretching for him, arching. “That’s it, Malik.”
The quiet moans had a different texture to them now. “I have had a thought.” Malik’s voice was rough, wonderful to listen to.
Altair pressed his lips to the soft secret place behind the shell of his ear. Even Malik’s skin had begun to taste of garlic, jasmine. “What was this thought?”
“Even if the result ended in disaster, as it tends to with you,” Malik considered, “and even if you have real responsibilities now and better things to do with your time…”
“Is there an end to this thought?”
“Perhaps if you had the patience to wait.” The strong muscles cording in his shoulders as he shifted. “I’m still not used to you doing these simple selfless things. If it was selfless,” he said wryly.
“Malik, what else could it have possibly been?”
Altair busied himself finding a place to kiss on Malik’s nape that would make him fall silent. Malik snorted instead. “If the meal was purely for this, Altair, trust me when I say you do not have long to live.”
“Then it was mostly selfless,” Altair assured him, and whether he finds the right place to kiss or not, Malik is too distracted to raise much of an objection after that anyway.