I saw the idea for a Twins!AU for Assassin's Creed where Altaïr and Desmond are identical twins, so Malik and Shaun think that they have a crush on the same person. Now, I don't really ship these pairings, but I thought that it would be an interesting exercise and (most of all) fun to write. This will likely be just a one shot, but I could probably be expanded upon if I decide to do so. Nothing is set in stone.

There will be a lot of switching perspectives between Malik and Shaun, FYI.

Dedicated to Mrasayf and her lovely Assassin's Creed art. 3 (just remove the spaces)

mrasayf. tumblr post/ 156437227678/ okay-but-imagine-in-a-modern-au-altair-and

mrasayf. tumblr post/ 156492583833/ twinsau-doodles-altairs-tattoo-reference

mrasayf. tumblr post/ 156542350328/ more-twinau-doodles-where-desmond-and-altair-try

There was a new student in Malik's class.

He had wandered in five minutes late after the start of the lecture, the hood of his white sweatshirt pulled up and a slight smirk on his lips. He strutted into the classroom, his head held high, and collapsed into the nearest empty desk listlessly. He was clearly a transfer student, as class had been in session for a couple of weeks and Malik had never seen him before.

Malik knew that he hated this new student immediately. He simply did not tolerate the screaming arrogance that the new student radiated and his casual disregard for the structure of the classroom. Whenever Malik was late, he always tried to enter quietly and unobtrusively with his head down; absolutely nothing at all like the egotism written all over the student who had just entered.

Of course, when the new student walked into the room as noticeably as possible, the professor's lecture came to an abrupt halt and she peered at the student with a frown. "You must be Miles."

"I'm afraid so," said the new student, conceit practically dripping from every word. Malik scowled.

"I would appreciate it if you made more of an effort to be on time in the future," Professor Read said, her voice stern.

"Will do," Miles replied, almost sarcastically.

The professor peered at him for another moment or so before attempting to continue her lecture. It didn't take long for the new student to raise his hand again. Malik sighed and leaned back in his seat, running one of his hands through his hair.

"Yes?" said the professor impatiently.

"I'm going to need a tutor," said Miles, "or at least to borrow someone's notes."

"Very well," the professor sighed. She cast her gaze around the room before coming to a rest on Malik. His heart sank. "Al-Sayf will help you. You can use the syllabus for other assignments."

Malik did his best not to groan out loud. Miles turned to see who his tutor was going to be and grinned at him, giving a small wave, while Malik resisted the temptation to hit his head against his desk. A couple of other students shot him looks of pity. As much as he wanted to protest, he couldn't refuse a direct order from his teacher.

He suffered silently throughout the rest of the class period until their professor dismissed them for the day. Malik shoved his things into his backpack sourly, ignoring how Miles walked up to his desk.

"So, you're my tutor, then," he said with a grin. Malik noticed that he had a thin white scar bisecting his lips.

"No," Malik snapped. "You're only borrowing my notes."

"Whatever you say, 'Al-Sayf,'" said Miles, pronouncing his surname in a way that was mocking, and yet not mocking at the same time.

"Malik," he corrected ill-temperedly.

"So, should I just take your notebook?" Miles asked.

"No," replied Malik. "You might ruin it."

Miles crossed his arms over his chest. He quirked a smile at him and said, "So what do you propose?"

Malik hesitated. He would have liked to avoid as much face-to-face contact with him as possible, so he tore two pages out of his notebook, handing Miles a pen. "Write down your email and I can send it to you."

Miles raised his eyebrows at Malik from underneath his hood and nodded. He scribbled down his email as the latter wrote down his phone number.

"Wow, my first day and I've already got a guy's phone number? I think I'm going to like it here," Miles said, peering down at the paper that Malik shoved into his hands.

Malik resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. He snatched his backpack from the floor and stormed away with a huff.

"Sorry I'm late!" said a voice loudly.

Shaun looked up from his textbook in irritation. A young man of perhaps twenty years old stumbled into the classroom. He was wearing a white hoodie and jeans, a red and black backpack slung over his shoulders, and was completely unfamiliar to Shaun.

"Young man, you're being disruptive," the professor scolded.

"Sorry," said the new student quieter.

Shaun frowned and focused his attention back on his book and the worksheet he was supposed to be filling out.

"We are studying the crusades today," said Professor Kenway, raising his eyebrows at the new student.

He clapped his hands together. "Great. Which one? I've studied those before; ask me anything."

A couple of students around the classroom snickered and Shaun rolled his eyes. The professor ignored them and said, "The third." He handed the new student a worksheet, adding skeptically, "Do you have a textbook?"

"Sure do," said the student.

Professor Kenway blinked slowly like he was trying to avoid rolling his eyes. "Take a seat."

The new student looked around the room and, before Shaun had even realized it, started to make his way towards the empty desk next to him. Shaun hesitated, weighing his desire to not have to deal with the student, and his desire to do the right thing. In the end, he moodily shoved his backpack off of the empty seat to make room for him.

"Thanks," said the student, flopping down. Shaun noticed that he had a scar going through his lips and, when he rolled up his sleeves, a tacky tribal tattoo.

Shaun rolled his eyes and focused back on his paper until the student cleared his throat. Shaun looked at him in irritation, noticing helplessly that he wasn't actually bad looking. "What," he said, his tone harsh.

"I don't know the page numbers," he said with a grin, tapping his worksheet.

Shaun followed the movement of his hand and read the name at the top of the paper. D. Miles. He sighed and spat out the page numbers, trying to focus back on his own work.

"Can I please get to work, now?" Shaun hissed.

Miles shrugged at him with a grin. "Sure, man, whatever you say."

Malik and Shaun had known each other for years. Ever since their first year of middle school, when they were partnered together and forced to do a project. The two had been social outcasts previously, neither of them having been born in the country, and after the project (Malik was fairly certain that it was on some character or another from "To Kill a Mockingbird") merely stuck together out of habit. It was pure luck that they were roomed together in college.

It was Malik that always got back to their dorm first. Although they both had four classes a day (generally), Malik's classes were earlier than Shaun's. In fact, Shaun's World History class began directly after Malik's Geography class.

He sat on his bed with his laptop open, copying down the gist of his notes to email them to Miles. Once again, he questioned why on earth he was doing this. The door swung open, causing Malik to tear his attention away from his laptop, as Shaun stormed into the room. His expression was sour and he flopped onto his bed with a groan.

"Bad day?" Malik asked with equal displeasure.

"Completely," snapped Shaun. "There was this horrid new student who just barged into class a few minutes late."

Malik blinked in surprise and looked at Shaun sideways. It couldn't be a coincidence. "Odd, the same thing happened in Geography today."

Shaun frowned. "What was his name?" he asked slowly.

"Miles," said Malik, searching his roommate's face for any sign of recognition and found what he was looking for. "Oh my God."

"I can't believe that we had to deal with the same arsehole today," Shaun said, rolling his eyes. "What did he do to you?"

Malik sighed. "I'm going to have to lend him my notes and tutor him to make sure that he is all caught up."

Shaun groaned in sympathy. "Idiot sat down next to me and peppered me with questions the entire class period."

Malik's phone went off as he received a text from an unknown number. "Speak of the devil…" he muttered.

The text simply read, Hello is this Malik Its me

Malik tisked at the lack of punctuation and sighed. Shaun raised his eyebrows at him as the Arab man made it very clear what he thought about Miles' grammar.

"Was that him?" asked Shaun.

"Yes," Malik snapped.

"You gave him your number?"

"I had to," said Malik with a scowl. "Professor Read said that I had to tutor him."

"Yeah, but I don't think she meant that you had to give him your number," Shaun said, exasperated.

Whn dyu wnt to mt

Malik sighed. He was doing this on purpose. Respond to me like a human being who actually knows English and then we'll talk.

It didn't take long for Miles to respond. Y? Malik ignored him for another hour or so before he texted again. Fine, you win. When do you want to meet for tutoring?

Much better. How about twice a week? Any time will do, really.

Only twice a week?

Malik rolled his eyes. It's enough to get you started and probably more than you deserve. He thought that that seemed overly harsh so he added, Besides, you have my phone number and we will be seeing each other in class three times a week. Much to Malik's displeasure, but he did not tell Miles that.

Perfect. We can work out days and time later. See you soon

That was exactly what Malik and Miles did for the next two weeks. They met together on Tuesday and Thursday nights so that the former could attempt to get the latter all caught up on what they had discussed during class before his arrival.

Attempt being the key word. The more accurate description of their biweekly meetings was Malik spreading out maps on the desk in between them while Miles pretended to study them. After a while he would start to try to talk to Malik about other things ("You should come do parkour with me sometime; I bet that you'd like it") and in the end it would just be Malik that was studying. Although, he was ashamed to admit, more than once Miles managed to draw him out into an in-depth discussion about politics instead of actually focusing what they should have been focusing on.

Malik was surprised to find that he was not as intolerable as he originally thought. Yes, he was a little bit rebellious, often impetuous, demanding, arrogant, and impatient, but he would also be calm, driven, and wise when the situation called for it. Every now and then Miles actually made jokes and managed to elicit a smile from him. Malik was actually worried about what was going to happen when they ran out of things to "study." He knew that he would miss the other man greatly.

Unfortunately, all of the time he was spending with Miles, meant that Malik was not spending too much time with Shaun. Sometimes the Arab wondered if Shaun still disliked Miles like when they first met.

Shaun found his opinion changing about Miles as well. Although he only saw him in his World History class, Shaun found Miles to have a good sense of humor. Well, at least he tried to make jokes, even if they weren't very funny. He seemed to have a "go with the flow" aspect on life and there weren't too many things that appeared to bother him.

By the time that he had known "D" Miles for two weeks, Shaun started to think about things he hadn't really considered. He told himself that he wouldn't even think about dating. However…

Shaun couldn't believe himself. He was actually thinking about asking Miles out on a date.

The only problem was Malik. Shaun had no idea how the Arab felt about Miles anymore. He often got mixed impressions about the man when Malik returned from their night time study sessions. Sometimes he seemed to be in a good mood; other times he seemed to be exhausted beyond belief.

Shaun decided that he was going to pitch the idea of his going out with Miles to Malik the next time he saw him.

Malik stared at Shaun. The Brit was fidgeting with his fingers in front of his torso, waiting for his reaction.

He couldn't explain why, but Malik absolutely hated the idea of Shaun asking Miles out. A bubble of emotions churned in his stomach. It felt like there was a monster hatching deep down in his gut and it screamed and roared; the monster told Malik to lash out. To yell at Shaun. To get furious with him for thinking that it would possibly be okay for him to ask Miles out.

Malik took a deep breath. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want," he said, his voice harsher than he had intended.

Shaun looked taken aback. "What?"

"I said that you can do what you want!" Malik hissed. "Why the hell should I care if you ask Miles out!?"

"Well I don't bloody know!" Shaun yelled.

"Ask him out, then!" roared Malik.

"Maybe I will!"

The two stared at each other. Malik noticed how red Shaun's face looked before he whipped around and stormed out of their apartment. Malik released a cry of frustration and punched the wall, feeling completely helpless.

The next time that Malik saw Miles, the latter did not mention Shaun asking him out at all. He was his usual self, talking to Malik about things that weren't their Geography class work.

"Are you alright, Malik?" Miles asked, when he failed to roll his eyes at the other man's joke.

"Peachy," Malik snapped.

Miles raised his eyebrows at him. "Clearly something's bothering you; I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I am afraid that I disagree," said Malik curtly.

Miles sighed. He pushed his hood down with one hand and ran through his hair with the other, before he began to dig around into his backpack. He withdrew one of his textbooks for another class, at which Malik gaped, his trouble with Shaun momentarily forgotten.

"God, that is the most beat-up textbook I have ever seen!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, we had to get it second hand," said Miles with a shrug, happy to see that whatever was bothering his friend momentarily banished from his mind.

Malik yanked the textbook from his friend's hands, ignoring Miles' protests. He turned to the front cover, looking at all of the names; there had to have been at least thirty of them.

"'Second hand,'" mimicked Malik sarcastically. "More like thirtieth hand."

"My professor is one of those older ones that doesn't like to upgrade to newer copies," Miles said, rolling his eyes.

Malik's eyes dropped down to the last name on the list. Altaïr Miles, followed by that year's dates.

"Altaïr Miles," Malik repeated slowly.

"Oh," said Miles. "Yeah."

"Altaïr," said Malik, placing the textbook back down on the table on top of all of his maps.

"That's my name," he replied.

Malik stared at him for a long time. "I thought that your name was Miles."

"Well, it is," said Altaïr. "I just… a lot of people call me Miles. It's kind of a joke."

"Well excuse me if I don't get the punchline," Malik snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt pointlessly hurt in a way that he couldn't describe. "You've been letting me call you Miles for a fortnight now."

"Miles is also my name, though," protested Altaïr, putting his hands up in a defensive posture. "It's my surname. I've actually been considering getting it changed to Ibn-La'Ahad, which was my mother's name."

"You haven't been calling me Al-Sayf," Malik said.

"No, but as I said before, it's kind of a joke," insisted Altaïr.

Malik's lips thinned. "I don't get it."

"Yeah, I wouldn't expect you to get it until you meet my brother," said Altaïr.

Malik shook his head. He clearly didn't know him at all. "I didn't know that you had a brother."

Altaïr grinned at him. "Oh, yeah. He's pretty cool, I guess."

"High praise," Malik snapped.

The other man sighed and sat back in his chair, peering at Malik critically. "You're angry at me."

"I'm angry at a lot of people," he hissed. "I'm mad at you for not telling me these things and I'm mad at Shaun for asking you out-"

"Shaun didn't ask me out," said Altaïr, frowning deeply. "I don't even-"

Malik pushed himself away from the table in disgust. He grabbed his backpack and stalked out of the library, leaving Altaïr sitting alone at the table.

"I'll just give you all of your papers back next time I see you, then, shall I?" he called out towards Malik's retreating back.

"We need to talk," said Malik to Shaun, early Saturday morning.

Shaun looked up at the Arab man blearily, tiredness clinging to his eyes and his every movement. "...What?"

"We need to talk," Malik repeated. "We are going to walk over to the food court in the student union, get a cup of coffee and talk about Al… Miles."

The Brit blinked at him slowly, clearly trying to remember what they needed to talk about. "Fine. Just… give me a moment to get ready."

Malik nodded curtly and walked stiffly towards the door. He tried not to appear impatient as Shaun made sure that he was somewhat presentable, joining his roommate at the door.

The two walked in silence, making their way towards the student union, the cold morning air biting at their faces. Once or twice they both opened their mouths to speak, but changed their minds and remained quiet.

Malik reached his hand out for the door handle hesitantly. His arm froze in mid air and he turned to look at Shaun sideways. "Did you really ask Miles to go out with you?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," said Shaun, drawing his head up high and looking pleased with himself. "And he told me that his name isn't really 'Miles,' by the way," he added smugly. Malik tried to beat back the rush of jealousy that he felt. Altaïr had told Shaun that his name was Altaïr; Malik had to find it out on his own.

The Arab man took a deep breath and opened the door. Yes, Malik decided, it would definitely be better to wait and continue the conversation when they've both had a cup of coffee.

They didn't have to walk far to reach the food court. Malik immediately began mapping out where they were going to sit, what he was going to say, and how he was going to manage to stay calm. His thoughts skittered to a halt, though, as soon as he and Shaun entered the room, because of who he saw.

It was Altaïr. He was standing there holding a cup of black coffee, but that was not the appearance of the other man that made Malik and Shaun freeze; it was who he was talking to. Because Altaïr was talking to himself.

Altaïr was standing next to someone that looked exactly like him, right down to the scar on his lips. The only difference was that the Altaïr that was standing on the right had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his hood down.

The two Altaïrs stared at Malik and Shaun and Malik and Shaun stared at the two Altaïrs.

"Desmond?" Shaun spluttered.

"Malik!" said the Altaïr on the left, grinning broadly at said man.

"Uh…" Malik said dazedly.

Altaïr abandoned his clone to move over towards his friend. "Sorry about your maps. I didn't realize that I would be seeing you. I can give them to you later, if you like."

"Altaïr, what's going on?" said his doppleganger blankly, looking between Altaïr, Shaun, and Malik.

"I was just about to say the same thing," Shaun said.

"Oh, I mentioned that I had a brother, right?" said Altaïr.

"Yeah, I think I remember you mention something about that," Malik said, his charcoal eyes scanning the other man up and down.

"Desmond, Malik. Malik, Desmond," Altaïr said, slinging his arm around the shoulders of his brother. "This is my twin brother. That's why we usually just call ourselves Miles; to confuse people."

Malik and Shaun exchanged a glance. The realization of their situation crashed down upon them and the two roommates burst out laughing. Shaun was dating Desmond. He had asked out Altaïr's twin, and not Altaïr himself. Therefore, Malik had absolutely no reason whatsoever to be jealous.

Oh God. Malik had been jealous. He had been jealous because he thought that Shaun was going to ask Altaïr out. The thought made Malik laugh even harder.

The two Miles brothers looked at each other in bewilderment at the two laughing men. Malik wiped away a tear.

"I don't get it," said Altaïr, blinking in confusion. He glanced at Desmond. "Did I miss something funny?"

Malik shook his head. "I'm just an idiot," he managed to say through his laughter.

Altaïr opened his mouth to say something, but Malik shook his head. He forgot where he was, forgot that Shaun and Desmond were standing right there, and grabbed the other man by the wrist, pulling him close. He snaked an arm around Altaïr's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. He did not push Malik away or react in shock or disgust; he simply kissed him back. It was pure magic.

Malik knew then that that was the start of something wonderful.