Hello everyone, first time AssCreed writer here hoping that I didn't totally butcher these amazing characters. This piece is heavily inspired by allahdammit (allahdammit . deviantart . com ) and her gorgeous art, especially the AU ones and her College Castes. Check her DA out, it's full of snarky Malik and sexy Altaïr.
So, this fic is AU, it's slash and if you don't like this then please pick something else to read so that your time is not wasted on something you know you won't like anyway.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Assassins Creed, nor do I own anything assosciated with allahdammit and her art.
"You were staring at me." Malik hissed under his breath while nosily (overly so, as if to hide the conversation with Altaïr even though no one was around) rummaging around for a specific book in his locker. "Don't do it again, dumbass." Finding the book, he promptly shoved it into his bag and flung it over his shoulder.
"Were not." Altaïr easily shot back, lazily leaning on the lockers next to Malik's. "I was just looking at you. Sometimes." He shrugged his shoulders. "Big deal."
Malik wondered for the umpteenth time why he hadn't poisoned Altaïr in chemistry class. Or given him a deadly virus in biology class. Or just killed him in PE. Dodgeball was a dangerous game after all. "You-" He growled, while slamming his locker shut with more aggression than the locker was used to. "-don't think it's a big deal that my brother finds out? That your brothers find out?"
Altaïr's smirk faded at the corners. "So what if they do?" He asked, although the tone was a far cry from convincing. It was more defensive than anything else. "They will find out, sometime anyway." He stalked up behind Malik, always two steps behind him.
The other male, dark skinned and furious, had to admit that, yes they would find out. Sometime. Preferably at a much later time, when it wasn't such a big deal for Malik himself anymore. Because now it was. He was d-
"I'm not dating the novice! Not in a million fucking years!"
-seeing more of Altaïr than usual, more than their official bleak knowledge of each other would deem necessary. For example, right now. School was out and Altaïr was known not to stay in school one second more than what was demanded of him. Sometimes, he didn't even bother with some of the seconds that actually were demanded of him anyway. But Malik, diligent student with a mind sharp as a razor and a future that could offer him anything and everything, had decided to stay for a while in the library, skimming through some books on the next project in geology. It wasn't as if he'd wanted Altaïr to be there, and certainly not like he had asked him to stay. Now in afterthought, he'd like to think he allowed it out of pity.
But the motherfucker had just followed him after the last class, sat down in the library and ruined, what was supposed to be a quiet time to study, the whole thing accordingly by just breathing the same air as Malik. It wasn't like he made something strange twist in Malik's stomach when he leaned too close to Malik's face, or because Malik really wasn't considering him to be anything close to attractive (it didn't matter how well-toned Altaïr's body was, how that infuriating goddamned grin slid over his lips or how the eyes sometimes felt like they could see much more than everyone else could) or they way Malik didn't feel tiny tingles of nervousness creep up his spine as he felt Altaïr looking at him.
The man could be stealthy when he wanted to, but Christ was he a loud breather!
"So... wanna come over to my place?"
Malik snorted. "No, thank you." He saw and heard more of Ezio, who was one of Altaïr's half-brothers and sure to be home, in school than he even felt necessary and he had no wish to be ridiculed in his spare time.
"Your place?"
"Definitely not." Malik spat out as they walked out from the school. Kadar was probably home too and he had no wish for Altaïr to mentally scar his little brother. He also had no intention of giving the little bastard any kind of material that could later be used as blackmail.
The grounds were almost empty, blessed be the small miracles, and he started to walk across the lawn without even checking if Altaïr was following or not. It wasn't as if he wanted him to.
Altaïr heaved a sigh, something heavy mixed with irritation. "Y'know, you're not really making this easy."
Suddenly Malik's word spun around and his wrist was caught in Altaïr's unyielding grasp as he was turned around by force. "The fuck?!" He tried to yank his wrist free but, as Altaïr's second hand grabbed his hip, he was only pulled closer. His left shoulder, the one no arm was attached to, came up defensively out of pure reflex.
"Seriously." Altaïr said, and Malik stilled as he said it. The tone. There was something about they way Altaïr had said it that made him pay attention and he hated it. "You said you'd give me a chance. Are you backing out or what?"
Malik swallowed, his throat suddenly gone dry, and tried to think of a way out of this. He came up with several options, all of them useless. "I am giving you a chance. Let me go!" He snarled back, pulling at his wrist again. As soon as he got it free, the idiot in front of him would find Malik's knuckles in his eye...
Altaïr had done everything. He'd stalked him in the hallways, he'd taken the places closest to Malik, he'd tried to chat him up (numerous times, all without result) and he'd even triedto pretend to be interested in everything Malik was into. He hadn't given up, although Malik couldn't understand why someone like Altaïr would be interested in someone like him, and one day, much like this one, Malik had been studying in the library (eating a late lunch too actually) when a desperate and rather deflated Altaïr had thrown himself down on the chair next to him.
Malik was used to it by then (so was Shaun, Rebecca and the rest of his friends) and paid him little mind. What occurred next was a bit of a blur to Malik, but Altaïr had, in his own awkward and terribly frustrating way, asked for a date. Pleaded for a chance, just one, to prove that he could make Malik fall for him.
Malik had, after a moments complete confused and flustered silence, said yes.
Not because of the way he was already regarding Altaïr's antics as a natural part of his life (because he wasn't) or because Malik already thought that Altaïr was kind of smart in his own way (because he wasn't, he was a stupid novice at everything) or because he found himself thinking that, even though the other male was irritating beyond his imagination, he was irresistibly alluring (because he wasn't... he was mildly interesting, at best), but because he was sure that the fixation wouldn't last much longer. Really, as soon as Altaïr found out how different they were or just got tired of teasing him, it'd be a wham-bam-thank you ma'm and off Altaïr would strut to another victim.
Only, he hadn't strutted off yet.
He had, in fact, started doing things like these. And Malik didn't know who he wanted to shoot the most; Altaïr or himself.
"Liar." The hiss came from Altaïr's moth and Malik felt like he'd been stabbed with and icicle through his guts. "You refuse everything I suggest-"
"Because ninety percent of what you suggest is stupid!"
"-you won't even let me speak to you, even though I know you're feeling something for me too. That's not giving me a chance, Malik." Altaïr continued, pressing his body closer still.
"... You know I'm what?!" Malik forced out, because it was starting to get hard to thing straight. Probably because of the studying earlier. Yeah.
The other shrugged. "I know you're feeling something for me too Malik. And you're just being a stubborn ass by not doing something about it, but since I'm such an awesome person I figured I'd let it slide." Altaïr's shoulders twitched in a stiff shrug, and a confident grin slid over his lips. "It's just that it's getting a bit irritating to have to bully you into everything."
Malik was aware that he was doing a perfect goldfish imitation, mouth agape and eyes staring, but he couldn't for the world get over what he'd heard. "You think you know that I'm interested in you... you... novice!" He cried vehemently, sudden anger surging up and almost making him dizzy, wrestling to get free from Altaïr's (far too strong, far too warm, far too nice) hands. "You arrogant, self-loving dick! Why would I ever be interested in you?!" He practically screamed, realizing too late what he'd actually said.
… Oh, fuck.
… Oh, mother of all godforsaken fucks.
Altaïr let go slowly, eyes not meeting Malik's wide stare. He took a step back, then another, never raising his gaze from the grass beneath their feet. The grin had vaporized. "Oh." Was all he said.
Malik stuttered, choked on the air in his lungs as he saw Altaïr take yet another step back. That tiny distance suddenly felt like a gaping chasm, endlessly beyond his reach. He felt sick. He couldn't talk properly anymore. Why had it come out like that? He was angry, yes, but... it felt like that question had been just as much aimed at Altaïr as it had been aimed at himself.
But then Altaïr raised his head, and Malik thought that maybe, just maybe, the other teen would laugh this off too, like he did with every other excuse, accusation or insult Malik would throw his way. Like he always did, just brush it aside like it was nothing and then proceed to say something infuriatingly corny, or stupid (and on rare occasions, something remotely smart) back.
But then he met Altaïr's eyes, and he knew that it wasn't what was going to happen.
"So you're not. That's good to know." The taller male said, voice somehow small yet accusing. "Figured you wouldn't say yes in the first place if you already knew that, but that just shows how little I know about you Mal." The steel creeping along the edges of his voice was tinted with bitter anger.
"No, Altaïr-" Malik started, voice suddenly very weak at the possibility of this whole situation running head first into the Land of Fuck-ups and Broken Relationships.
"I didn't have a relationship with Altaïr. But he apparently wanted to have one."
Altaïr cut him off with a jerky motion of his hand, something that looked like a comical imitation of a karate-chop. "S'okay, Malik. I tried, but I guess I wasn't... it wasn't meant to be." It sounded like he tried to chuckle, but to Malik's ears it sounded like he was suffocating. It broke something in his chest, something small and fragile, and it hurt to see Altaïr this way.
He was supposed to grin. To push him up against the wall and try to kiss him while Malik tried to punch him, only to stalk away in the last minute. He was supposed to be a cocky, insufferable novice, who asked over and over again if he wanted to go on a date with him, if he wanted to watch a movie, never stop trying even as Malik said no, no and no again and he was supposed to feel absolutely nothing for Malik.
Altaïr was supposed to break up with him, half-heartedly apologizing for wasted timeand then move on. He was supposed to be a jerk, someone Malik could figure out, like the mind-puzzles he sometimes entertained himself with. It was supposed to be easy.
He wasn't supposed to be this upset. He wasn't supposed to be this emotional. Wasn't supposed to give up.
Malik didn't understand this new Altaïr. It scared him, and something dug its ragged claws into his insides and pulled. He called that something regret.
"Don't say tha-" He tried again, voice just as weak and carrying just as much emotion he himself felt.
But Altaïr cut him off again. "Malik." He sounded so wrung out. "Don't talk. I'll go home, you'll go home, and come Monday, we'll both ignore each other. I'll leave you alone." He turned on stiff legs to walk in the opposite direction.
"He's walking away from me." Malik realized with sudden clarity. "Forever. He won't be around anymore. I won't see him again."
But how could he? He was already in Malik's fucking life!
"Wait!"
Altaïr turned his head to cast him a heavy, tired glance, and it wasn't until he cocked his head slightly, in silent question, that Malik figured out that the sudden shout had come from his own mouth.
"Why?" He asked, for the first time. He asked the question he'd always wanted to ask only now, when it was all coming undone. Because now he had nothing to loose at all. Not even his pride, because pride belonged to the person doing the actual breaking up, or so they said, and apparently Malik was doing just that. He thought that, whoever 'they' were, they had no idea what they were talking about.
The other male gave him an incredulous stare. "You made yourself clear. You're not interested, and I'll have to-" His throat clicked dryly as he swallowed. "-accept that. So I'll go. I won't bother you anymore."
"No, why? Why me?" Malik asked again, and his mind slowly pieced together a more elaborating sentence. "Why are you interested in me?" He couldn't see it, whatever it was that Altaïr saw, and he desperately wanted to understand. This might be his last chance to do so.
Malik's heart took an involuntary leap as Altaïr turned around to face him again. "Malik... do you-" He sighed, and the look he gave Malik was so full of hurt and hope, desperation and anger, that it sliced into his lungs and his mind and made him feel so out of breath, so blank and so evil.
He felt sick.
"Do you have to drag this out? I... fuck, Malik I like you. A lot." The golden eyes said it all. "But I won't stand here while you just play with it."
Malik took one staggering step forward, one step which meant so much to him and he was adamant in this now. He needed to get over himself and get this over with. And figure out what he wanted. "I want to know why you like me." He carded a shaking hand through his thick black hair. "Altaïr, I... I don't understand. You're not into any of the things I am, we're nothing alike. You're a jock and I'm a nerd, or whatever your brothers call me..."
He took a breath. The school-grounds were still empty.
"I just... you're going to loose interest, we'll break up and in the end-"
"In the end, it'll be on me everything falls. It'll be me that stands there, played and betrayed. I know your type."
"-in the end, it'll be a waste of both our time." He pretended he didn't hear his voice waver.
Altaïr was silent. A silent Altaïr was the hardest one to figure out and, as Malik wasn't even able to figure out himself right now, he wasn't even sure he wanted to try.
"...You're serious about this, aren't you?" The paler male asked. And he took a step forward, just as Malik had done, looking wearily hopeful.
Malik nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.
"You think too fucking much." Altaïr growled. "Fine. You're smart, I like that. Although, you do overthink everything. You're strong-"
Malik snorted. As if Altaïr, the star athlete would ever truly say that.
"-shut up, Mal. I think you're strong, and that's that. I like that too, damn, I need that. You're gorgeous-"
The taller youth took another step forward and Malik felt something on his belly twist and flutter.
"- and you're Malik. You're you, and I like you. How the hell could I loose interest in you of all people?" Altaïr spread out his arms in a shrug, as if saying that there were more words but he couldn't place them properly.
They were silent for a while. Then Malik made up his mind. "You can't decide whether I like you or not, before I do it myself." He hissed, suddenly feeling angry. "That's not fair."
Altaïr shrank back.
"You're annoying, you're an all-round stupid, pompous and arrogant bastard." Malik ended his tirade as Altaïr's scowl deepened and he started to turn. "But you can't walk away, not now."
He fought for the right words, words that fought back and stuck like barbed wire in his throat, and fuck if denial wasn't a bitch to overcome.
Altaïr stood still, looking for all the world like he wanted to punch Malik in the face. A move Malik would gladly accept, welcome even, just to close the distance again. To not feel like such a coward.
"You know, you give me no reason to not walk away Mal." And now Altaïr was angry too. "I tried, but you wouldn't give me anything to work with."
Which was... partly true, Malik supposed. But screw that. "Excuse me? What you were doing was stalking me and sexually harass me, you novice!"
"Yeah? You do it better then! Oh, wait you won't, 'cause you seem too freakin' afraid of action Malik!"
They were in each others face now, quick tempers flaring and agitation running like electricity through their bodies, hissing out words and accusations like they were firing bullets. Malik was relieved. He knew this Altaïr better than the forlorn, silent one.
"Is that so? You know what? Fuck you, Altaïr!"
And Malik's hand somehow found Altaïr's hoodie and pulled, crashing them both together. Malik stumbled backwards as Altaïr, taller and broader (although not by that much), bumped into him and almost toppled them over as the laws of physics demonstrated themselves.
But they didn't fall. As Altaïr's arm shot around Malik's waist (his almost-superhuman reflexes showing off) and his other hand gripping at his shoulder to stabilize them, Malik felt an almost divine calm rush over him and he knew exactly what he was going to do.
He tilted his head ever so slightly and crushed his lips against Altaïr's, the momentum working to his advantage. It was incredibly ungraceful, not at all like any of those cheesy first kisses in the movies, and bordering on painful as the taller male fought to regain their balance and, in his surprise, twisted his head and smashed his nose into Malik's cheek. Malik was pretty sure there were teeth involved in there as well. Altaïr's lips were firm, slightly chapped and oh yes the scar felt amazing, and so completely him that Malik had to draw in a sharp breath through his nose, amazed and startled at the same time.
They quickly drew apart, Altaïr with so many questions, so much surprise mixed with hesitant happiness written all over his face that Malik almost grinned. He restrained the tug on his lips though, as he suspected that if he started to laugh, he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd probably go into hysterics.
It was important not to panic.
"Wha-?" Altaïr breathed out, his arms still holding on to Malik like he was afraid he'd run off if he let go. He took a deep, shaky breath and repositioned them both so they weren't on the verge of collapsing. "You... Mal, don't... you kissed me. But you don't like me."
Malik heard the unspoken question in the last statement and tried to shrug. It came out as a tense twitch. "Stop deciding what I do and don't." He sighed, the rush of adrenaline leaving him strangely tired and edgy. "I get to tell you when I like you or not, you idiot. Not you, understand?" The insult lacked the usual bite, and he felt his cheeks slowly but surely warm up and take on an embarrassing blush.
"So... Malik, I'd seriously like an... an explanation, a rejection-" Altaïr broke off and grimaced somewhat sheepishly. "No, I don't really want a rejection, but... y'know, just something that would make this a bit clearer."
Malik shifted, trying to make up his mind whether or not he was comfortable being this close to Altaïr, and punched the taller male's shoulder in irritation. "How much clearer do I have to be?" He snarled when he saw the lewd expression that slid over Altaïr's features. "Don't push it, birdbrain. I might have decided that I like you, but that doesn't mean that I can't change my mind."
That was such an obvious lie that Malik was honestly surprised to see that Altaïr sobered and straightened up. The arms around him loosened slightly, allowing for Malik to break free should he want to. Apparently the novice took this far more seriously, handled the situation with far more care, then Malik had given him credit for.
"I can't believe you kissed me first." Altaïr said then, as if amazed by Malik's gall. "I thought for sure I'd steal one from you before you'd... made up your mind." The scar across his lips stretched as he grinned at Malik's glare. "I don't mind though."
"I can't believe it either. Can't believe I locked lips with this disgustingly addictive, stupid, preposterously arrogant, absolutely infuriating and incredibly beautiful man. But I don't mind either. I really don't mind at all."
He just hummed a response, slowly backing out of the warm embrace (not without cautious reluctance), and righted his bag so that it rested comfortably on his shoulder. The blush had died down to a small tingle of warmth, but he suddenly found himself unable to look at Altaïr for a longer period of time. Malik was out of energy, out of emotional roller-coaster tickets, and he wasn't quite sure what to do now.
Thankfully, Malik was never out of words or wry, temperamental attitude. "Guess you're just afraid of action, Altaïr." He smirked, not at all sorry for the maliciousness dancing at the corners of his lips, at the pink that dusted the other male's cheeks, but took pity on him for once and didn't comment, and started to slowly continue his trek across the lawn.
He heard Altaïr hurry after him. "Wait up, Malik! So, what, uuhmm... would you-" All the times Malik had shot him down manifested itself in Altaïr's rambling, hearing his scramble for the right words so that today might be the day Malik actually said yes was almost painful to Malik. It was as if Altaïr actually thought he didn't have a better chance today, with the events of just a few minutes ago being rather out of the ordinary, than any other time.
"Stop talking, novice." The dark skinned man sighed, barely glancing at his companion. "It hurts my ears to listen to your blabbering."
Altaïr chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be nicer to me now Malik? I mean, you were pretty friendly back there."
"I took pity on you, that's what I did." Malik snorted.
They kept on walking in comfortable silence until they reached the concrete sidewalk outside the school gates. It was later than Malik had thought, the sun bleeding dark orange and pink over the white clouds and the wind picking up a cold undertone, and he felt his stomach rumble.
They usually went in opposite directions here, Malik to the left and Altaïr to the right, but now Malik was stalling, mulling his next move over in his head. He stopped and turned to face Altaïr. "Hey, would you-"
"No." Altaïr cut him off, stepping in closer and looking like he was fiercely determined. He grabbed Malik's only hand, pulled him to a loose embrace and fixated his pair of golden eyes on Malik's own dark brown. "Don't you dare to ask me if I want to hang out or do anything with you. I'm supposed to be the pushy one here." There was a big, stupid grin forming on his lips as he closed in on Malik "You can't have all the fun Mal."
Malik barely had any time to respond before Altaïr pecked his lips, fast and smooth movements impossible to deny, and could barely suppress the tiny noise his throat made as Altaïr's lips pressed against his own. He hesitated, all that courage from before seemingly lost as the other male pressed up against him, but he experimentally tilted his head when Altaïr made a questioning sound.
Then he pulled back sharply. "Idiot!" He hissed, taking a quick step backwards. "We're still at school! What if anyone saw that?"
Altaïr looked sullen, kicking a pebble at Malik's shin. "Screw everyone else. Let them see, I don't give a fuck." He pierced Malik with his impossibly bright golden eyes. "If you want to keep it a secret, we can do that. But just so you know, I don't care. You're mine-
"I'm no-ones." Malik stated firmly.
"-and I'm not ashamed of that." Altaïr finished, somewhat proudly.
Malik couldn't say that it didn't warm his insides a little in a way he didn't think possible (not when it came to the novice standing in front of him at least), but he still tried to keep his frown. "You're such a goddamned moron." He sighed, and tried not to smile when he saw the look Altaïr gave him. "So, what was your great plan? At least try to come up with something decent."
The other man exhaled harshly. "You're a jerk." His shoulders made a dismissive motion. "I'm hungry. You want pizza or something? Thought we could... I don't know... just hang out."
For one second there was a sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, then he remembered the feel of Altaïr's scar against his lips. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He had money, he was hungry and at wasn't all that late anyway.
They started walking, oddly at peace with being side by side on the narrow sidewalk, sharing a glance as Altaïr's fingers subtly started playing with Malik's. Brows were raised, one pair in daring question and one pair in incredulous amazement of the nerve the other man had, and even though the look Altaïr was given was discouraging, it didn't stop him from linking his fingers with Malik's.
"For the love of-" Malik couldn't manage more then a exhausted, wry laugh at the grin of victory that adorned Altaïr's face. "Fucking sap." He chided, without really minding it that much.
"Mmm." The other man acknowledged. They walked in silence for a while until Altaïr felt he had to break it, snickering in that irritatingly cocky way. He threw Malik a sideway glance. "Didn't know you were so hung up about stereotypes though, Mal."
As Malik had previously though, his knuckles did get to make acquaintance with Altaïr's eye that evening.
I have no idea what the fuck I just wrote, but I wanted to both try my hand at AssCreed an try to make up for all my lurking over at allahdammit's DA, since I never comment on her beautiful art...
Reviews are always appreciated, loved even, and thank you for reading and I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!