This was originally going to be a pwp, but as I was writing up to the lemon it just took a different direction. ._. So I'm hoping to expand this into a multi-chapter rather than a oneshot and maybe even finish it! XD Also, my apologies for any mistakes; I didn't do research beyond what I've already heard/read and a little bit of imagination. Not to mention I don't have AC, and friends only let me ride around on the horses, 'cuz I always attract wayyyy too many guards and die so I'm not allowed to do missions. TwT

This is a bit of an AU world where Al Mualim did not betray the Order, but Altaïr still lost his rank many months before this fic takes place. He has since regained it. Just... roll with it, okay? ;w;

Disclaimer: Obviously I'm just abusing Ubisoft's characters. If they were mine they'd be much worse off. :)

Altaïr set the bundle on the counter and shoved it forward. I raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"Lunch." Altaïr smirked. "A harlot gave this to me, saying she sees me pass by often. She thought I looked too busy to be eating well or something like that."

I rolled my eyes. "Come to brag about your way with women, then? Do you not have work to do, novice?"

He chuckled, leaning his hip against my counter like he owned it and crossing his arms. "I do. Which is why I came by to drop this off. I can't have this in the way while I run around."

I was about to tell him off about using my bureau to store his things and order him to carry his own belongings without complaint, but he quickly straightened and began walking away. "I'll return quickly, do not worry. Help yourself, if you'd like." Then he was gone.

I frowned deeply and glared at the parcel. It could be rigged or poisoned for all he knew, but the idiot took it anyway and thoughtfully dropped it in my lap. He truly was a novice. Cautiously I unwrapped the cheap cloth. No traps were triggered. Inside were a bread roll, some nuts, and a decanter. Thorough investigation showed no signs of poison in the food. I unstopped the decanter and sniffed. It was just goat's milk.

"Hm. So it truly was an innocent gift?" I shook my head and scoffed. "Then again, from a harlot, there probably isn't anything innocent about it. That oaf is just too thick to accept it that way, if he even realized it." Angry and bitter, as my mood usually is when Altaïr is involved, I rewrapped the gift and went to put it in the back.

Once beyond the curtain, however, I paused. Why should I do as he asks? I was not his mother, putting away his food. I looked down at the bundle in my hand and debated tossing it to the birds, or maybe giving it to a random street urchin. Neither was worth the bother though, and both were rather childish, so I took up his offer and dug into his lunch.

Sometime later that day I heard the soft thump of an assassin landing by the fountain. My heart raced even more than it was already and I silently willed for whoever it was to go away. I was not ready to deal with anyone yet. But then I heard them walk into the archive area and call out the usual greeting.

"Safety and peace, Malik." It was Altaïr.

I forced myself to my feet and stumbled to the doorway. It took longer than it should have, and I had to pause to brace myself against the wall.

"Malik? Are you hiding or ignoring me?"

That irritating no good… I gritted my teeth and threw back the partitioning curtain. Altaïr blinked. "Oh. There you are, brother. You do not look we-"

"You son of a whore! Allah damn you, you stupid novice!"

He held up his hands, confused but calm. "What fault did I commit to upset you this time?"

I maneuvered my way forward, gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself. "You and that damn thick head of yours! What kind of assassin accepts gifts from strangers? Anyone, for that matter! Children have more sense not to then you!"

Though his face was half hidden, his surprise was obvious. At least, to those who knew him, as it could be difficult to discern any emotion from his now usual stoic attitude. "You ate the lunch I brought you?"

If I could glare daggers, he would be dead ten times over. "Yes, you buffoon! Did you think I would honestly sit here with an empty stomach and not? That prostitute slipped something in it, though. Now I end up the one drugged instead of you!"

Altaïr leaned forward. "Shit. What about the immunities?" he asked, speaking of the building up of resistances to several poisons required during training. It was a process that, while dangerous, saved many assassin lives.

I shook my head. "Obviously it's not one of those, or else I would be feeling fine, idiot."

He clenched his hands. "Do you know what it is, then? Or if there is anything I can do?"

I already had a pretty good idea what the substance was; it wasn't deadly, but I would not dare share what I suspected with anyone if I could help it. I grabbed his collar roughly. "You wish to help? Leave. I will be fine in time, but not with you here."

He frowned. "Peace. I am only trying to make up for my mistake. Is that not part of what you've been telling me to do?"

I grimaced. That was true. But at the moment my anger was being ebbed away by something more powerful and it as getting harder to think straight. His presence was not helping matters. If I could be left alone for the rest of the day I could possibly ride out the drug without mishap.

"Yes. And you may make it up to me by getting out of my sight and far away from my bureau. Take a mission for a few days if you must. Just go."

The old Altaïr would have snapped and stormed off, even thrown a punch in for good measure. But damn if he wasn't paying attention to all the advice I'd been giving him. His mouth settled into a line and I knew he could tell something was amiss. He lifted a hand to my forehead and I flinched back. "You are not well. You have a fever. I think it best you lie down." He swung his legs over the countertop and I started to panic.

"No. I am fine. I can take care of myself, novice." I pushed on him in a weak attempt to stop his advance. He grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers from his cowl. Like taking care of someone fragile he nudged me toward the back room.

I planted my feet and twisted around, freeing my wrist. "I am not some child in your keep! For the last time, leave me be!"

I aimed for his head. He dodged and went to punch back. I followed past his arm and landed a blow to his back. He just as easily, if more gracefully, turned and blocked a second attack by grabbing my fist. He used the opening to push his arm against my chest and slam me into the bookcase, locking me in place with his leg and forearm.

The drug had me huffing from just that short exertion and my cheeks were hot. I stared fiercely at the man pinning me.

"Will you calm down? It is not a good idea to work yourself up like this. Is it not natural to assist a friend who is sick? I am not trying to make you upset, honestly. Yet it seems everything I do has the opposite effect!" He sighed and bowed his head against my shoulder. The anger was almost gone from me. His concern was indeed touching, but I couldn't let my guard drop at the moment. I was hyper-aware of the pressure holding me in place, the trapped helplessness, and his body awfully close to mine.

"Please Malik? Just… let me do something. It is my fault after all. I hate seeing you like this." His breath against my ear forced me to close my eyes and focus on steeling my will.

"Altaïr. I understand. But if you do not back away, I cannot guarantee what will happen to either of us. I do not wish to do something I may regret."

He turned his head at his name, confused. Since I didn't call him a novice I knew he realized how serious I was. "What do you mean?" he asked lowly.

This time he was tickling my neck with his words in a way that felt intimate to my sensitive skin. I couldn't help it when I squirmed and accidentally rubbed against his leg. I barely managed to stifle the noise of desperation wanting to escape me and faced away in shame. The damage had been done; he was bound to have felt the stiffness there, even through the layers of cloth. I imagined the shift in expression as he pieced together what it was, combined with the fever and weakness, and why I was desperate for him to leave. It was almost laughable.

Altaïr was quiet. "So… that food…"

I swallowed. "…Was drugged with an aphrodisiac, yes. She wanted you to sleep with her and figured an aphrodisiac was the way to do it. Now do you mind leaving me alone?"

The annoyance that was Altaïr did nothing of the sort. He merely paused a beat before whispering. "So, if I do this, you will…" He trailed off as he leaned further in to catch my earlobe between his teeth.

My eyes snapped open. "Stop that." He nibbled and I bit my lip. "I said stop." He added his tongue. "You bastard…" I tried to crane my head away, which in hindsight was a stupid move. I was about to shout and attempt to slap him, but then he assaulted my neck with his mouth, working his way up to my jaw in a wet line and sending a tremor down my spine. "What do you think you are doing?" I hissed as harshly as I could.

"What does it look like? I am teasing you," he murmured against my jugular. "It is highly amusing how easily you react. Normally I'd have to do much more to get you this riled up."

I struggled to find words, caught between flaring anger and raging hormones. In the end I made another feeble attempt to free myself and settled on what I knew best: threats and insults. "Altaïr, you camel shit! If I wasn't so weakened by this damn drug the Brotherhood would be cleaning your corpse from my floor by now!"

I could feel him smile. "See? If I'd known aphrodisiacs would make you like this I'd have given you some long ago."

I paused. "You… Did you… do it on purpose? Allah damn it all. Did you give me the food knowing it was drugged? Was there even a prostitute to begin with!?" I was incredulous as he pressed his body closer to mine and I felt something foreign yet instantly recognizable prod my hip. It was not nearly as hard as mine, but it was insistent and effectively stopped my rant while causing my body to flush.

My fists clenched tighter as he spoke. "I should make this clear to you: I did not plan this." He raised his head so his face was mere centimeters from my own. "I am sorry for what I unintentionally did. I'm just seizing the opportunity that has arisen. What happens next is up to you; I can help you with this by relieving your pain, or I can leave you to burn out for hours, possibly days and I will make sure no one intrudes during that time."

That damn man had me trapped between a rock and a hard place- literally. I couldn't believe what he was offering. In fact I had to rerun his words through my head several times to make sure I understood him correctly. He definitely seemed to mean it. Nevermind the fact that he and I were both men, he was willing to go through with it, though for his own sake or mine I couldn't tell. He wanted to continue. The only thing holding him back was my decision.

Either I gave some kind of sign or my silence was too long to wait for an answer because the arm against my chest slowly slid to my hip. My breath sped up a fraction. His lips ghosted over mine, across my cheek, and down to my collarbone. My heartbeat pounded my ears, drowning out any objection and look, there were his hands, slowly unfastening my robes and working around me. When my remaining arm became free it simply dropped to my side as his mouth slid lower. I just left him to his work and let the drug take over, being consumed by both until my thoughts were nothing but heat and feeling.