Ah friends. Yet another RP from me, and this time one of my friends from my school :/ Lol that's not awkward. Anyway, it's an AltMal this time, pure PwP with seme!Malik (me!). She played Altair, and did pretty well I think... Some of my lines aren't so smooth :/ Welp here goes YOLO
The alarm bells were ringing in his ears as Altair jumped from roof to roof. The center of the current city, where the assassin's bureau was located, soon came to view. Gritting his teeth together, the Syrian assassin slipped in through the roof top entrance, landing in a crouch on the floor below with an almost inaudible 'thump'. He felt a small sense of pride. Just because his rank was stripped away, the skills he had spent years to sharpen like his blade clearly showed he was much superior than others of the Order.
Malik heard the loud thump from the entry to the bureau, his head snapping up from his book to look at the door. His hand reached for his sword, securely stashed under the desk and waited for whoever it was to come in. Be it Templar or assassin, he was prepared for the worst.
When the hooded figure stepped into the threshold, Malik almost audibly groaned. Altair was pretty much worse than worse, and his grip on his blade tightened. "Novice."
The hooded assassin stiffened at the title. He was NOT a Novice! Altair voiced his thoughts to the one-armed man before stating that his mission had been accomplished while pulling out the marker covered in his target's blood.
"Good. Since there is nothing else for you to do here, why don't you scurry back to Al Mualim and continue-" Malik started to say, but cut himself off when he noticed a blotch of red on Altair's robes. "What is that."
Altair tried to act nonchalant, as he had managed to remove the one arrow that had hit him by luck before reaching the bureau. "It's nothing," he responded quickly, trying to keep his voice even. The red stain was spreading quite fast, but he wasn't about to show Malik what kind of vulnerable state he was currently in.
"Even the youngest members of the order are more careful about getting hit than you. Sit down Novice, I'll treat that for you." Malik stated, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hurry up, sit down."
He went to retrieve his first aid supplies, and returned leisurely to the main room, coming back to Altair shirtless. He don't falter and sat down behind the other assassin, asking, "Where were you hit?"
"The waist." Altair replied curtly. He turned slightly to watch Malik wet a cloth and start dabbing at the wound. He flinched at the minor sting of the grime and salt from his sweat being washed away, along with the blood and whatever else was there.
"Didn't I tell you to just break the arrow before coming back?" Malik muttered, setting to work on unpacking his supples. He pushed Altair's shoulder, saying, "Lay down on your stomach, not only are you making it worse, I can't see the would when you're sitting down."
Altair wanted to stay on his feet, stubbornly refusing. But Malik's push to his shoulder sent a wave of pain shooting up and down his body. Grunting quietly, the assassin slowly lowered himself onto the ground, shivering slightly at the sudden temperature change. "Get on with it." he grounded out flatly, not even bothering to glance back at the Rafiq.
Malik chuckled, examining the wound. It wasn't bad, and it hadn't passed any bones, organs, or anything important, nor did it have an exit wound. "Do you mind If I get water near you? I need to clean this more."
Without waiting for consent, the bureau leader was already up sauntering towards the fountain, a water pouch in his hand.
Was he taunting him? Altair growled angrily, teeth grinding together. How dare he mock him?! The sudden feeling of cold liquid splashing onto his body caused him to draw in a quick, sharp breath. The water was very cold compared to his body temperature, hot from running around during his mission.
Malik quickly went about cleaning the wound, halting the blood flow and pressing a cloth against it. "Stand on your knees and help me wrap this. Can't have it opening again and leaving a trail to follow."
Altair begrudgingly kneeled, keeping his back straight and magically not opening the wound again. "Here, help me wrap this around your torso Novice."
"I am NOT a Novice," Altair growled, snatching the cloth roll from Malik's hand. "You've done enough. I can do the rest myself." The Rafiq scowled at him.
"Stop being so stubborn." Malik snapped back, grabbing the roll of bandages back from Altair. "Lift up your arms." he instructed to which the Assassin complied, glowering at the wall in front of him. Slowly, they managed to keep the cloth in place, passing the roll around Altair.
Malik tied the end of the cloth off and patted the other man's shoulder, indicating he could put his arms down. "There, you may leave now."
Malik gave Altair a glare after a minute, when the older assassin hadn't left or made a move to put his clothes back on. "What are you still here for, Novice?"
"It'll be too dark for me to navigate a horse in a few moments. Besides, you said yourself that the guards would be wary with Talal's assassination. The gates would be heavily guarded." Altair paused, as if having trouble with his next words. "... I'm... In no condition to fight my way pass those that'll be stationed around the city." he finally ground out, not looking to see the other's reaction.
Malik instead of laughing, just gave the other assassin an aggravated sigh. "If that is the case... Then I guess you may stay the night. Feel free to use the water from the fountain to clean yourself up."
The Rafiq left the room to finish putting the supplies away, but quickly returned to his desk. "Why have you not moved? You've been sitting there as if you were a statue. Don't tell me you're in pain?"
Altair refused to say anything else. The bureau leader had hit the nail right on the head. Despite not being life-threatening, the place of the wound would sent ripples of pain through him ever time he tried to move. Not wanting to show any more weakness in front of Malik, the ex-master assassin merely glowered and intoned, "I'll sleep here tonight."
"If you so desire. Just do not complain if you get cold." Malik said. "And wash up in the morning then, unless you want me to bathe you right there."
Malik was only joking, and he couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped his lips as a light pink dusted Altair's cheeks. "Maybe you'd like me to?"
"Maybe you want me to come up behind you and run my hands down your stomach, sliding your trousers down your thighs as I strip you? And you want me wash you off thoroughly, pressing my hands against your body as I scrub every last bit of dirt and grime away from your flesh?" Malik purred, leaning forward over the desk. He relished the deep red Altair's face was turning, smirking at the assassin and whispering, "Novice."
Hearing the way Malik purred his current title sent a small shiver up his spine as the usually-stoic assassin tried to control his growing embarrassment. He didn't recall his face burning this much even when traveling under the scorching sun with his thick robes and hood up. "I am not a Novice." the rebuttal sounded weak, even to himself, making him flush even more when he noticed that the fact was not lost upon the smirking Rafiq.
Malik smiled and stepped closer, taking Altair's chin in his fingers and forcing him to look up. "Of course not. That's clearly why you're here Altair."
The Rafiq kneeled down and looked the Syrian in the eyes for a moment, before closing his own dark orbs and breathing, "Why you are here not moving, allowing yourself to be at my mercy if I so wished."
Feeling the other lift his chin up, Altair stiffened at the close proximity. What the Rafiq said next had his heart pounding and the demoted assassin was sure his face was as hot as the metal used by doctors to sear wounds shut.
"S-shut up, Malik." Altair growled, though inwardly he was cursing himself. Why did his voice have to waver just now?! His frustration seems to fuel the one-armed man's amusement, as he ran his thumb lightly across Altair's dry lips.
"What's the matter, Novice?" his question held a note of taunting as he smirked at the assassin sitting on the ground. "Are you... Nervous?"
"Not at all." Altair growled, jerking his face away. He finally unfroze and managed to move away from the Rafiq, gasping lightly at the pain that shot though his side. His hand almost flew to his wound, but he kept it by his side, forcing himself away from Malik.
"Would you like me to take your mind off that pain Novice?"
Altair's head snapped to glare at Malik. The Rafiq's voice had sounded much closer than before. He was surprised to feel rough lips on his own, and his gold colored eyes widened in surprise. He initially tried to twist away, but the pain from his back had him drawing in a quick, painful breath. Malik had taken full advantage of the assassin's vulnerability, slipping in his tongue. Despite his shock, Altair felt himself deepening the kiss, also allowing his own tongue to battle with the other's.
Altair moaned into the other's mouth, completely enjoying the feeling of hands feeling his body. Finally breaking away for breath, he growled half-heartedly, "Shut up and move." The assassin let out a loud groan when a finger plunged into him, causing him to shudder before golden eyes narrowed at Malik. "I am not letting you fuck me."
"Like you're in any condition to give?" Malik taunted, pulling his finger out to just the second knuckle and rubbing slow circles, pressing flush against the other assassin. He curled his finger, loving the way Altair practically shivered and ground back on him. "Not like you'd even know how not to receive anyway."
Despite not wanting to admit it, the feeling of Malik's finger was incredible, and he couldn't help it as he shuddered and moaned at the feeling. However, the Rafiq's next words had him snapping his eyes into an angry glare at the dark-haired man.
"What was that, Malik?" Ignoring his protesting wound, he pushed his former teammate hard, trying to wirggle away.
Malik laughed and jerked his finger away from the other assassin, keeping him in place with a hand on his lower back. "It's just what it sounds like. I don't think you even have it in you to prove me wrong."
His hand stayed at Altair's back, but traveled higher to his shoulder blade, slowly tracing a scar there. His fingers were rough, calloused, and moved slowly over the skin he'd never traced before. Malik's smirk widened as he pressed his fingers against another scar, probably a newer one from the way Altair tensed up.
Altair shuddered at the feeling of Malik pulling out his fingers, and tensed at the feeling of those fingers tracing over some of his scars, tensing when he felt the calloused pad press against one of the newly healed ones. Internally, he felt stabs of guilt rush through him as the embrace only reminded him that it was his actions that caused the man to loose his left arm. However, the teasing challenge had him rearing to 'prove Malik wrong'. With a growl that had a hint of pain in it from straining his newest injury, Altair tried to push the Rafiq onto his back, tugging at the annoying robes. It was frustrating, since the unoccupied left sleeve had been sewed up to the shoulder to make movements easier.
Malik chuckled under Altair at his failed attempts to disrobe him, and caught one if his wrists in his hand. He used his legs and rolled them over, straddling the Syrian's hips. "I said you couldn't do it."
The Rafiq shrugged out of his overcoat and leaned over Altair, his fingers running up his neck and to his lips, where he pushed his fingers into the assassin's mouth. Or at least tried to.
Malik's teasing just made him even angrier and determined to shove 'the truth' into the Rafiq's face, even though he was pinned by the one-armed man. He was an assassin, for crying out loud! And he was currently the one being sat on by another man that only had one arm. When fingers trailed up his neck to his lips, Altair shivered slightly but stubbornly kept his mouth shut, glaring up at Malik with his golden eyes and tried to buck the other off.
"Don't be stubborn Novice. And try not to open the wound again. I will not tolerate your blood on my floor." Malik chided, pressing his fingers against Altair's teeth. After another failed try, he pulled his fingers away and sighed, rubbing them gently over one of the assassin's nipples. He watched the man below him intently, splayed out on the floor, his face flushed, eyes defiant. He was gorgeous, really, and Malik almost lost his control right there.
He felt a stab of annoyance at the almost scolding tone Malik had used, instead still trying to bore holes in the other's head with his eyes. Altair quickly bit his lips to keep himself from moaning as the man's fingers played with one of his nipples, eyes squeezing shut involuntarily. Hearing a throaty chuckle from the dark-haired Rafiq, the Arabic assassin tried to glare, but instead threw his head back, biting his lower lip even harder as Malik's fingers skillfully tweaked his erect nubs.
The Rafiq smiled, his hand running down Altair's body to the hem of his trousers. He snickered, palming the Syrian's cock through his clothes. "Look at how wet you've gotten. I didn't think you were enjoying it that much..."
Malik slid his hands under the cloth, pushing it down the assassin's thighs and gripping his length, giving a few jerks. Altair gave a breathy moan, involuntarily arching into the other's hand, feeling his hips thrusting. Oh Allah. He was half-tempted to remove those fingers later, but for now, they better not stop. The assassin heard Malik's chuckle, squeezing his eyes open to glare. Or attempt to. His flushed face and glazed orbs didn't make for much of an intimidation factor.
Malik gave another laugh, thrumming his fingers in a beat against Altair's cock. "Stop trying to be intimidating Novice, now that I have you here I'm not going to let you go."
The Rafiq started a slow rhythm with his hand, staying close to the head to ghost his breath across the tip, making the other assassin squirm.
The other's hot breath was sending tingles up and down Altair's spine as the assassin shifted slightly, hips rising to meet the slow tugs, growling at Malik to go faster. "Impatient, aren't we? And here I thought you were going to 'prove me wrong.'"
The dark-haired man's words had Altair growling loudly again. The assassin swore that one day he would do something to get back at him. Maybe start with removing the same hand currently pumping him at an agonizingly slow pace. One day, he vowed. However, it had better not stop right now.
"Wait here while I get something."
The Rafiq left, and Altair wondered how he trusted him enough to not move. The opportunity was perfect, he could just get up and leave... While lost in this thoughts, the Rafiq returned with a red sash and a length of string, and pushed Altair on to his stomach. Using the sash, he tied the Syrian's arms behind his back, and rolled him back over. "Is that my sash?!"
"What if it is? You can wash it later." Malik replied, taking the string and wrapping it around the Syrian's cock. Using his teeth, he tied the string off and pulled back, licking his lips. "Perfect."
Altair was surprised to be flipped onto his back and feeling the cloth of his sash securely tying his arms in place, but he was outraged to have one of the leather strings acting as belts to be tied around his throbbing cock.
"What is the meaning of this?!" He yelled angrily at the Dai, struggling to free his arms before inwardly cursing. It was one of the knots they had learned to do as trainees, often used on prisoners and done in such a way that they were impossible to wriggle out of. Despite all of this, Altair involuntarily shivered at the look Malik had given him, watching the other licking his lips, it then fully dawned on him that he was completely at the Rafiq's mercy, exposed and immobile, therefore he had no way of preventing the dark-haired man from doing anything he liked to him. Somehow, the thought sent a small shiver of exitement through him, which unfortunately, ended up going straight to his swelling member.
"Haha, look at this, begging me to relieve you." Malik purred, palming the assassin's cock. "Now do you see your position. I could even leave you here if I want to. Make you squirm and beg for me to come back, to finish you off. But I'll be kind. What would you like me to do?"
Altair grimaced, biting back a moan as Malik took his length in his hand and started a slow, steady pace. "Come on now, don't be shy, Novice."
Altair tried to stare incredulously at the Rafiq, but his dilated eyes seemed unable to open more than half ways as he panted. This was KINDNESS?! The slow pace he was going at was torture! However, his pride remained firmly lodged in his throat, and the assassin tried to keep his lustful groans in. Seeing this, Malik frowned slightly, before he mischievously reached down, letting go of Altair's length. The Syrian let out a slightly high pitched gasp when he felt one of the Dai's finger tracing light circles around his entrance, and his hips bucking eagerly in response, trying to create more friction. Altair glared half-heartedly at Malik, wriggling his hips in an attempt to take his fingers in deeper. However, the dark-haired Dai cleverly maneuvered his fingers so that no matter what the pinned assassin did, he could not get past the first joints.
"S-stop it and move!" the brunette growled, his voice cracking slightly at the end. Malik smirked down at him, still not moving his fingers in any deeper, taunting the assassin. It was then that the assassin realized that Malik expected him to BEG! This is too much! Altair's fuzzy mind was still single-trackedly trying to take the two teasing digits in deeper, but he could feel his resolve wavering. He needed those fucking fingers inside of him NOW!
"That's no way to ask. Maybe when you get your rank back, we'll have worked on those manners a bit." Malik whispered against Altair's chest. He felt the Syrian's growl shaking in his chest, and smirked, turning his head to listen to the erratic heartbeat. He wiggled his fingers, pulling one out and leaving the other in, alternating fingers continuously. Even with one arm he relished the fact he had more control, and almost laughed out loud at all the bullshit he could give the novice for this later. He shoved his fingers inside and twisted curling them around the ring of muscle, before pulling back to just his nails and murmuring, "Do you want more of that, too?"
Altair almost arched off of the floor when he felt two fingers thrust into him, twisting and curling. He growled at the loss when Malik removed them to just past his fingernails again, squirming agitatedly. The rough leather digging into the base of his swollen cock wasn't helping, and the assassin's golden eyes glared up at Malik, urging him to go faster. However, it seems that the Dai was intent on playing around, or maybe until Altair finally did beg him. The Syrian's scarred lips drew back into a small snarl at the thought, but his flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and rapid breathing took away the intimidation factor. With a small sense of despair, the assassin realized that he was completely at the one-armed man's mercy.
"If you're not going to speak, I'm just going to decide what you want." Malik threatened, slipping his fingers slightly deeper into Altair. He searched around for that one spot, smirking when he found it and made the assassin arch and cry out in pleasure. He stroked Altair's prostate, watching his face with much interest. "And I think you want me to stop."
"N-no, don't stop!" Altair cried out before he could stop himself, and feeling his cheeks heat up the moment he saw the Dai's smug smirk. He didn't have time to ponder though, as Malik rubbed that spot inside him that made him see stars in a slow circle before beginning to slowly withdraw his finger, going one centimeter at a agonizing pace. The assassin made a slightly high noise of protest in the back of his throat involuntarily, before feeling his face rise in temperature even more.
Malik drew his fingers out again, but quickly slipped in a third finger and rammed them into Altair's prostate, grinning at the noise the assassin made. He twisted his hand, wriggling his fingers, the noises coming from Altair's mouth being music to his ears. 'Maybe I'll try something new...' He thought to himself, and pulled his fingers out to flip Altair over. "Wh-what are you doing- Ah-?!" Altair yelled, but the fingers plunged back into him and made his brain short-circuit. If his mind wasn't hazy already, he stopped being able to process anything, when the warm muscle that was Malik's tongue slipped into his hole next to his fingers.
"Fu- Ahh!- Mal-!" He couldn't even form a coherent thought once Malik flipped him onto his stomach and plunged his tongue in next to his fingers. Altair struggled to keep remembering to breath, the little pricks of pain nothing compared to his growing ecstasy. Which only made him remember the painfully uncomfortable leather strap currently wrapped tightly around his cock. That, and it was a little difficult to breath with his face shoved into the floor.
"T-ta-take it- ugh!- o-off!" The assassin managed to get out, brain overflooding with pleasure and demanding more. Malik twisted his tongue around inside the assassin, pulling out and licking his balls. He rolled onto his back, taking the tip of Altair's cock into his mouth, sucking while his fingers played with his entrance. Altair's hips snapped forward, and Malik gagged, jerking back from the assassin. "Don't you start thrusting, I'll pull out if you even try."
Altair whimpered, and tried to control his breathing. He couldn't handle what Malik was doing. His brain hurt, his mind too fuzzy to think. "J-just... Put it in..."
He was probably not going to live that little whimper down, but right now, his haze-filled mind seemed to be making him do everything so that Malik wouldn't STOP. When he opened his mouth, he internally cringed. Was that voice really HIS? He felt the Rafiq smirk, continuing his administrations, enjoying the way Altair's body shook with shudders as the assassin bowed his head, trying to keep still.
"Sit up." Malik demanded, holding Altair's hips back from jerking forward again. The Rafiq slid under Altair's body, forcing the assassin to move his legs and lean back on his haunches.
"What are you doing." The assassin hissed, his frown deepening at the sight of Malik's smirk.
"You didn't want me to stop, isn't that correct? We're continuing, now that you're plenty opened up. Now sit up."
It took Altair a moment to steady himself. All of the... Distractions weren't helping him gain his balance as he was forced into a crouching position above Malik. The assassin's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't like where this seemed to be going.
"No." he was glad that his voice was somewhat even when he defiantly glowered at the Rafiq, trying to lean forward and balance on his knees.
Malik sighed, but his smile still played at his lips. "If that's the case Novice..." His tone and grin darkened. "Just don't blame me if you're sore."
The Rafiq rutted upwards, his cock ramming into Altair so quickly the Assassin had a hard time holding back his yelp. Malik held his hips, watching Altair's cock twitch, cum leaking from the head. "Ah, you came from that, huh? Nice to know you're enjoying yourself." He started moving at a slow pace, letting out a low moan of his own.
Altair almost yelped at the painful penetration when Malik slammed into him. Throwing his head back, he bit his lower lip, trying not to whimper. But the pain was nothing compared to the over-flooding pleasure, and he could feel himself coming around the painfully tight strap.
"O-off-" Altair hissed when Malik rocked upwards at a slow pace. Impatient, the assassin wriggled, trying to free himself while also making the Rafiq go faster.
"Why should I take you off of myself when your insides are practically sucking me in?" Malik asked, holding back his groan. His thrusts were speeding up, as he pulled Altair's hips down to meet his. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small bureau, only drowned out by a small groan from one of the two men.
"Novice-" Malik whispered, his hand running up Altair's side, their hips moving on their own accord now. "Altair. You can let your voice out. There's no one here but us."
Altair felt the Rafiq speeding up, and, despite his aching wound and muscles, tried to slam himself down even harder. The feeling of Malik running his hand up and down his side just served to make him even crazier with lust. The Syrian panted, trying to take Malik in even deeper, barely able to note with satisfaction the little moans and groans from the dark-haired man thrusting into him. But he was also trying very hard to muffle his own cries every time the Dai buried himself into him, until he hit that one SPOT that made Altair see stars, letting out one of the loudest moans yet.
"T-the-st-string-!" Altair groaned, arms straining against his binds as he struggled. That damned piece of leather was starting to become painful.
Malik's eyes were alight with mischief. "Ah, that's what you meant? Are you sure you want me to unwrap the string?"
Against his body's protests, Malik managed to halt his thrusting and roll into a sitting position, holding Altai's back with his hand. "I've read that if you delay an orgasm long enough, when you finally release it's the most blissful feeling."
The Rafiq shuddered and let out a sigh, taking Altair's cock in his hand. "So what will it be, Novice? Patience isn't your strong suit, I know, so instant gratification or the most amazing feeling you'll ever felt?"
Altair shifted uncomfortably, trying to gain his balance again, a difficult task, as his arms were still bound securely with the red sash of his robes. He was tempted to believe the Rafiq's words, but in doing so, he would be making it obvious that he was actually LISTENING to Malik, and that clashes with his pride. Gritting his teeth together tightly, the Syrian assassin let out a growl, not looking at the dark-haired Dai's face as he pistoned his hips downwards, once again making the other's cock go deep within himself.
"Hm~? Is that a 'keep it on?'" Malik taunted, his voice soft and deep. He brushed noses with the assassin, fingering his already-filled hole. "I still haven't come yet, you have plenty of time to decide what you want."
And with that, he plunged a finger in, face contorting into a grin at the squelching sound, disguised by the noise Altair made. A second finger quickly followed the first, and Malik started a new rhythm: pushing his fingers in as his cock pulled out, and vice versa. At some point, his fingers and hips started moving at the same time, snapping forward to meet Altair's as a wanton noise tore it's way from the assassin's throat.
Altair jerked violently, eyes snapping wide open in shock when he felt Malik slip two of his fingers in next to his thrusting cock. He bit his scarred lips at the stuffed feeling, glaring slightly at the other when he saw his grin. The assassin threw his head back and made a loud noise of pleasure when the Dai began a rhythmic pattern, thrusting into him at a fast pace until they lost all sense of any rhythm, reduced to the two simply fucking each other senseless.
"Haah... Almost there..." Malik breathed against Altair's neck between pants, his body rocking against Altair's hard enough he thought his hips would break. Malik never realized how rough Altair could be, and almost dreaded the thought of what would happen if his hands weren't bound. Then again, the thought of Altair getting back at him excited the Rafiq, and his thrusts sped up till he was sure he couldn't hold it.
"I-I-" a few more thrusts and he came, fingers pressing up against the assassin's prostate as he shuddered in bliss.
Altair and Malik continued to slam into each other until the assassin felt Malik coat his insides with hot spurts, thrusting in as deeply as possible while also shoving his fingers roughly against his prostate. Throwing his head back, Altair was thrashing, trying to free himself. The full feeling in his loins was unbearable, and Malik's release was just adding fuel to the fire.
"G-get it OFF!" The Syrian assassin let out a strangled yell, twisting this way and that despite his flaring wound. The circulation to his hands were almost completely cut off, but that didn't stop him from jerking at his arms, trying to release himself.
Malik's moment of peace was short lived, as Altair jerked to one side and managed to hit him in the face. The Rafiq growled, his hand jerking at the bind on Altair's twitching cock, and he yanked it off, throwing the leather behind him in one fluid motion. He jabbed his fingers into Altair's prostate again, almost hissing at the yell the Syrian gave as he arched his back and came, warm fluid exploding against their stomachs and coating Malik's pelvis and Altair's thighs. The Rafiq pulled out of Altair completely, rubbing the assassin's back as he slumped against his shoulder.
The moment he felt tthe constraint being removed and Malik's finger jab into his prostate, Altair came violently, letting out a loud yell-the loudest so far-as he spurted his seed all over the two. The moment his orgasm finished, the assassin collapsed against the dark-haired man's shoulder, completely spent. Both were breathing heavily, and the Dai was gently rubbing Altair's back, making the tired assassin even more sleepy
"And I thought you'd have had more stamina, when all you do is run." Malik chucked, his cheek resting against the side of Altair's head. He leaned back on his hand and and let Altair sit up, staring into his eyes. A confident smirk played on his lips. "We still have to wash up you know."
Altair tried to glare, but he had to admit, Malik was right. Already, the sticky fluid on his stomach and trailing down his thighs was becoming uncomfortable. Shakily, the assassin tried to rise, before realizing that his arms were still tied. "Untie me," he stated, twisting his arms in hopes of getting some blood flowing.
The Rafiq merely chuckled, his hand running over one of Altair's thighs, as he leaned forward so their noses were touching and whispered, "How about no?"
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