Beautiful

Pairing: Altair x Malik
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating: 12+
Warnings: Angst, Yaoi
Disclaimer: i own nothing... i dont make any money... they belong to their owners and creators

--

It was another unforgivingly hot day in Jerusalem.  Malik however, did not dare remove his robe.  Getting heat stroke was better than staring at the ugly mass of scar tissue that was left of his left arm.

The bureau leader sighed as he risked a glance at the pinned up sleeve of his robe.  He was about ready to try and find someone to settle down with, but who would want someone so… flawed?  He hardly managed to pull anyone when he did have his arm and was considered normal, so with his unsightly stump he had virtually no chance.

Malik growled under his breath, knowing that his concentration was now lost and he wouldn't be able to carry on with the tedious job of drawing maps anymore.  So he made his way around his desk and over to his room on the other side of the bureau to think.  He wasn't expecting any visitors today so he had all the time he needed.

He sat down on his bed and shrugged his robe off his shoulders to glare at his disfigured arm.  Whenever he looked upon it, it brought up painful memories of his brother.  It also made him feel weak, inferior, because he couldn't do the job of an assassin anymore.  He just had to stay at the sidelines and sulk jealously as other assassins, of a much lower capability than he, came, picked up their assignments and left.

He especially hated it when Altair popped by because, although they were good friends again, he still felt a little bitterness towards the man, as he was the reason for his current disability.  But he never showed this negativity towards him anymore because Altair was a changed man, had learned his lesson and more than repaid his debt, since he had saved the whole of Masyaf from potential mind enslavement.

But that wasn't the only reason Malik disliked Altair's visits.  He had also gained a feeling of lust towards the master assassin.  He didn't know when it had begun, but he always felt drawn to him when he decided to come by.  There was something about him that made Malik want to shove him against the nearest wall and ravish him until his lust was sated.  But he wouldn't dare act on it because he was so self conscious about his arm.

That was the only thing holding him back.  He already knew that Altair was a bisexual, after a couple of drinks the other had indulged in a little story telling about a few past experiences with other men, and also when they were younger, he had caught Altair kissing another boy quite roughly against the back wall of the Masyaf stronghold.  But Altair didn't know about that, and Malik hoped he never would.

Malik sighed again, and wondered for the thousandth time why he was punished for Altair's mistakes.  Why did he have to lose everything while Altair had only lost his rank, which he had gained again soon after.  Malik punched the sheets of his bed.  He shouldn't have gone after him when he had gone for Robert De Sable.  He should have run, and taken Kadar with him.  Then maybe he'd still be alive.  Maybe he'd still have his arm.

--

Altair sat in a roof garden to hide, holding his breath to the best of his ability so that the guards wouldn't hear him.  But it was difficult since he'd just run at least half way across Jerusalem, trying to get away from a group of archers who had spotted him, jumping between roof tops and dodging arrows and throwing knives.

"Keep looking, he can't have gone far!" the assassin heard one of them yell.  So he shrunk down further, breathing as shallowly as he could.  Altair's breathing stopped completely as he saw a shadow against the curtain beside him.

"Urgh, give up, he's gone" a different guard said resignedly.  When the last pair of feet hopped off the roof, Altair released the breath he'd been holding and slumped back against the base of the roof garden.  He closed his eyes as relief filled his body, relaxing his tense muscles and allowing him to breathe deeply.

Once he'd regained his composure, Altair got up from his slouched sitting position and peeked out one of the curtains to see if the coast was clear before hopping out.  He looked around him to determine which direction Malik's bureau was in.  He took in his surroundings and summarised that the bureau was north east from where he was standing, if his memory was correct.  After mulling over it for a little while, he set off to where Malik was housed.

--

Malik jerked when he heard the soft thump of feet hitting the floor, marking that someone had just entered the bureau.  He quickly put his robe back on and cautiously peeked around the door to his room.

"Malik?" Malik closed his eyes and sighed quietly before opening the door fully and walking over to the assassin in the room.  Just what he needed, a side of maddening lust with his depression and self loathing.

"Altair, what are you doing here?  There are no more assignments until tomorrow, and even so, I'm not expecting you for another month." Malik said, hoping the visit would be short.

"I need an excuse to visit my best friend?" Altair asked cheekily, Malik just rolled his eyes, mentally cursing.  The visit was going to be a long one.  He thought he may as well try and have a good time as he walked over to his desk and pulled a large bottle of wine from one of the shelves underneath it.  Altair grinned at this, as it was just what he had come over for, a chance to get completely plastered and have some quality time with someone he could literally tell anything to, and he wouldn't be judged about it.  If Malik was to judge Altair about anything he would know about it, as Malik was certainly not the type of person to sugar coat anything, or hide his dislike for something.  He made his own way to the other side of the desk and pulled out two wine glasses and set them on the table for Malik to fill.  Once filled to the point of not spilling upon being picked up, Altair gently pushed Malik's wine glass towards him before holding his own up for a silent toast.  Malik nodded and gently chinked his glass against Altair's before they both downed their glasses, feeling the alcohol going straight to their heads as they smiled at each other, pouring themselves another glass each.

--

Eventually the glass had been completely demolished by each of them, and they had moved from the desk to the makeshift bed underneath the door to the bureau.  Their faces a little flushed and speech only slightly slurred, they were only a little buzzed, not drunk.  Altair was considerably tipsier than Malik, as the bureau leader had been careful with the amount he had drunk, not wanting to lose his composure and do anything he'd regret later.

"Do you ever think about retiring?" Malik heard Altair slur.  He raised an eyebrow at the question.

"Careful Altair, I'll think you've hit your mid-life crisis." He joked, the assassin just shook his head.

"I'm serious, haven't you ever thought of just settling down and living smooth and quiet for the rest of your life?" Malik looked to the floor before nodding.

"Yes, I must admit I have.  But I'm not expecting to settle down really, since I've been an assassin my whole life, I don't think I'll last long in a quiet life." The bureau leader said, covering up the real reason why he wouldn't settle down.  Altair looked at him a moment, nodding.

"That makes sense.  I don't think I'd be able to drop the assassin life completely either." The master assassin replied, Malik laughed.

"Altair, I know that you wouldn't be able to live quietly."  Altair smiled sheepishly and Malik couldn't help smiling back.  He found that it looked good on the assassin's usually scowling face.  "So what brought that up?" Malik asked out of curiosity.  Altair shrugged.

"Not sure, just making conversation I guess." He said dismissively, obviously not wanting to go into it much.  Malik nodded before an awkward silence fell over them, both wanting to say something but not knowing whether to say it or wait for the other to speak first.

"Have you got any more of this?" Altair finally said, holding up the empty wine bottle.

"I might do, I'll go check." Malik replied, getting up and going back over to his desk.  He gasped as he was shoved against the wall, chapped lips pressed against his own.  His heart skipped a beat when it finally sunk in that Altair was kissing him and he relaxed against the other man's body and started kissing back.  He felt Altair's lips pull into a smile, and smiled back, wrapping his arm around the older man's neck to pull him into a deeper kiss.

Altair pulled back when air became an absolute necessity, but didn't pull far.  Malik's arm slipped from his neck.

"What was that about?" Malik asked, trying to catch his breath.  Altair smirked.

"I've wanted to do that for a while now." The older assassin said quietly, pressing his lips against Malik's again quickly.  Malik felt his chest tighten and happiness fill him, and frowned.  This didn't feel like mere lust. He didn't know what to name the emotion he felt.  He didn't recognise it at all.

"Malik?" the tentative voice pulled him from his thoughts and his eyes snapped to Altair's.  He was surprised to see fear in those deep brown orbs.  Was Altair afraid of rejection? Usually Malik would have pointed this out with a sarcastic remark, but instead he gripped the back of Altair's neck and dragged him into another kiss.

This kiss was gentle though, almost loving.  Altair moaned softly and wrapped his arms around Malik's slightly smaller frame, causing the younger to press his body to Altair's.

They had soon moved to Malik's bed, Altair leaning over Malik as their tongues had a heated battle for dominance.  Malik pulled away as he felt Altair trying to remove his robe. Panic filled him momentarily.

"Please, don't" he panted against the other assassin's lips.

"Why not?" Altair asked, confused.

"Just don't" Malik dismissed the question.

"This isn't because of your arm is it?" the older man asked.  Malik looked away, ashamed to admit even to himself that he was afraid of what Altair would think of the hideous scarring that stretched from his shoulder to where his arm had been amputated.  "Please trust me, I have many scars of my own and I won't judge you for it."  The older assassin whispered into Malik's ear, before nibbling the lobe, earning a gasp from the man beneath him.

Malik went over the situation in his head.  Altair really had worked to try and get back into his good books, he highly doubted and hoped that he wouldn't throw that all away by mocking his scars.  

"Alright then" he said so softly Altair almost hadn't caught it.  The elder smiled and kissed Malik's forehead.

"Thank you." He said before starting to remove the only thing keeping Malik's insecurities hidden from the world.   Every inch of skin that was revealed was worshipped by Altair's lips, and when he finally reached where the skin was starting to look a bit mangled, he saw Malik's muscles tense.  He pressed his lips against Malik's again as he slowly pushed the sleeves completely off his arms, leaning up to take a look at his lover.

Malik was breathtaking, the scarring just serving to complete the image and make Malik, Malik.  But the man beneath him was just looking at the wall, Altair's eyes raking across his exposed torso making him a little uncomfortable, and he didn't want to know what the older man was thinking.

Altair took Malik's chin and turned his chin towards him and pressed and searing kiss to his lips, pushing all the emotion that he felt for Malik into that one meeting of flesh.  It was so intense that Malik groaned softly.

"You're beautiful" the words were whispered lovingly, and Malik looked into Altair's eyes.  He could detect no lie, and felt tears well up in his own eyes, and dragged Altair down for a kiss to try and cover it up.  Altair had already noticed the moisture welling up in Malik's eyes, but hadn't questioned him about it, thinking that the younger man's pride had been dented enough for now.  He just settled for lying beside his lover, kissing gently.