At Eighteen, Altair had a myriad of problems. On the one hand were his hormones. He was being driven up the wall by the girls, flouncing around under the boy's noses as if they had anything different to flaunt. Two lumps of fat on their chest and an extra mouth. Fucking. Wow. It made him bitter, the fact that they didn't arouse him like they used to. If anybody knew who did row his boat, his rep as a bad-ass would go up in flames. He would be the guy who liked it up the ass.

Le Sigh.

On the other hand, where his studies. They were crushing him like a chubby chaser under his bride to be. AS English was killing him. Literally killing him, since the higher level literature was damn hard. The exam boards had kicked it up a notch, thinking that kids were finding it too easy. Whatever. They just worked harder now than ever. Rumor had it that UNI was easier than A Level. AS level History was handing his ass to him, the dates were just too similar and just way too boring. Well, that is in comparison with what he would rather be doing. Well, who he would rather be doing.

Since he enrolled the new Humanities and Science teacher to help tutor him, his grades went up significantly. Altair wasn't academically gifted, he was average. But now? Top of the class. It helped that the new teacher was a stunner. Mr. Al-Sayf had to be the most beautiful man he had ever seen. It didn't help Altair's raging libido. It also didn't help that when Sir questioned him on the tutored subjects, Altair would completely collapse under the older man's stare. Just like what was happening right then.

"Altair, what year did the…"

The boy was staring at the full, dusty roseate lips move around syllables, but no words registered in his brain. It was like an old silent film where you absorb all the visual information while the little man down front plays concerto. Mr. Al-Sayf didn't need to talk, he could just sit and do silly menial things, and he would still look as if they had dragged him out of an art museum. He wasn't one of the creepy fanatics that wandered it; he would be the Grecian God that the artisan spent a lifetime sculpting.

"ALTAIR!"

Said boy jumped nearly out of his seat, only noticing then that the teacher had laid a sun-kissed hand on his bicep. The irrational part of him resituated them, in the park in the summer sun where they only needed to wear shorts. It was common decency, but still rather cruel to let the public see Mr. Al-Sayf's magnificently toned…

"Sorry sir," Altair rubbed the back of his head shamefacedly. It didn't stop the cheeky grin slit his face ear to ear. His mind wandered back to the park, but he threw himself back into the task at hand. "I spaced out a little there. I've had a lot going on lately. What was the question?"

"What's been bothering you Altair?"

"It doesn't-"

"It matters if it is distracting my student from his studies."

Altair pursed his lips, but eventually he let out a huge sigh. He was going to have to lie like a whore. "Well, I'm into a girl and I haven't the slightest idea how to… you know!" he half lied. He would make a crappy whore.

Sir laughed genuinely, not noticing the bashful stare the boy was giving him. "Altair! You are the last boy I would consider having such a problem! Why is this girl so different from all her predecessors? Usually you just smile they fall into bed with you!"

The boy blushed across his nose and throat, "well, she's different. I don't want to just fuck her. I want to make love to her, you know? Romance and all that show her that to me she is special. The only problem is she's got an asshole boyfriend…"

"Damnit Altair! Why fall for the one that's already in a relationship!"

"I didn't do it on purpose! Besides, he doesn't treat her right."

"How do you mean?"

"He hurts her."

Malik tugged one of his sleeves further down his elbow. Altair didn't miss the gesture. He had already noted the mottled purple bruise that scrawled across the teacher's upper arm. The teacher bit his lower lip, effectively skinning it enough to make it bleed lightly. "Maybe she loves him. Who can say they understand a woman's mind?" he smiled strenuously.

"Yeah but I love her so much more than he does. I know. He goes and dates other girls behind her back. He cheats on her then comes home and-"

"They live together?"

Oh shit.

Altair balked, and then nodded grimly. Thankfully, Mr. Al-Sayf didn't catch on tight enough, because the bald man decided to walk in and interrupt him. "Malik, get your shit we're leavin'."

He sneered down at Altair, who returned the gesture with a fiery glare.

Malik made a hollow, timid laugh and muttered quiet apologies, then returning his gaze to Altair. "Sorry Altair, we are celebrating our anniversary tonight. I'll make it up to you, I promise. We can carry on from here tomorrow."

The boy nodded, giving him a warm smile. Malik was forgiven for his silly choice in men, because it didn't matter. Soon, Malik would be his and this balding old cretin wouldn't matter anything. Altair stood and gathered his books, glancing over to the door. Malik had plucked a few papers from his desk and worried them in his hands, Robert De-Sable on his arm where Altair should be.

AAA

Seeing Malik the next day in class was a rather tense moment. Automatically, Altair took in every aspect, zeroing in on tiny things that anyone else would have brushed aside. In that single lapse of time when Malik sauntered from door to desk, Altair went over every killing method his gang had taught him. Every single one; just in case he saw a new cut or bruise. He saw a single red smear across his teacher's collarbone. Robert had burnt him.

Altair's eyes narrowed and Al-Sayf picked up on the teen's foul mood almost instantly. Another time and Altair would have blushed at the thought. Malik paid enough attention to discern his mood. He would salvage the tiny flicker of recognition into the "Malik" folder to obsess over later, but right then, he was intent on the slowly advancing teacher.

He was obviously distracted, and Altair gave him a sound reason as to why.

The lad made a single movement, and Malik responded in kind. He threw a nearby beaker of water onto the ball of fire skittering across the floor, putting it out in a single ugly hiss. The class erupted into hubbub, but Malik's single nod to the door only made their excited yelps turn to excited howls. Altair moved like a tiger, something predatory and bestial. It made the students that he crossed to get to the door go silent, and when the teacher slammed the door behind himself, the class didn't utter a word.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What the fuck is that!"

Malik blanched when Altair flicked his collar aside to reveal the smear was bigger than he first anticipated. Altair made a whining sound and turned away with his hands over his face. He couldn't believe it went further. It looked bad when it was small, but now he knew it went further he could see it behind his eyelids. He could see it going all over the older man's body, scarring him, hurting him.

"Look, it's none of my business, but since you've become my tutor," Altair turned to a stunned Malik, "I feel like we've become kinda friends. Yeah, it sounds cheesy, I know. But hell, if someone's hurting you, you gotta sort them out!"

"What would you know?"

"I don't know, but I know that nobody deserves to be beaten up by the person they love!"

"How would know what I deserve!"

"I know he should cherish you!"

"Nobody said he didn't!"

Altair grabbed the flailing arm, gesticulating wildly in the space between them. With a rip the sleeve was up by the older man's elbow, and the counter evidence was on display. The scars, hard cuts, enraged bruises, nauseating finger marks and weeping burns that dusted Malik like morbid kisses. Altair gagged on a sob and wheeled away, palms pushing painfully into his eye sockets.

Malik pulled his sleeve down.

It went against everything Altair believed in to hurt the person you love. Malik knew that, after the year and half they had spent together. They had grown close enough to call one and other friends, outside of class of course. Inside the classroom, Altair was just another student amongst many. However, when the bell rang, the lad lost his student status and became a free agent. He became Altair, instead of Ibn La-Ahad.

He attained individuality.

Apparently, that worked both ways.

"Canteen?"

Altair looked at the older man, eyes incredulous and confused. The teacher shrugged easily, and simply said, "I don't think I'm up for teaching, and you look a mite delicate for learning."

MMM

Unbeknownst to them, it would the first of many times the two would go out for lunch. Alone or with Leo and Ezio, they would hit a café or a fast food place and talk. Didn't matter what about. During the half term holidays, Ezio and Leo came with them nearly everywhere. None of them seemed to remember where they met, who they were or that they were supposed to be in set roles.

Once or twice, Altair saw Malik with a new bruise. They exchanged glances, but nothing was said. The two opposing sides knew the other's opinions on the matter, so it was dropped simply to save the peace. That and you can't focus on shit all the time. Sometimes, you just gotta leave it in your dust. It will always be there when you get back.

KKK

Robert De-Sable was the Technology teacher. Wood, saws and the like. When you hit sixth form they call it Product Design. Altair sometimes wished he took it, so he could accidentally lose the asshole a hand. Or arm. None of the students liked De-Sable as a teacher, and once the man got in a fight with a kind in the year below Altair. He put the boy in a headlock and got himself suspended. The boy spent three months in crutches and had to have three fingers amputated.

Altair growled at one of the little bastards kids that barged through him on his way out, and only a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him killing it with fire. Ezio. His Italian cousin, natural ladies man and effective man whore. It was the first day back, and already things had settled back into normal. Five girls were trailing behind him, trying to be inconspicuous while chattering loudly like a small band of chimps. "How's Mr. Mackenzie?"

The boy smirked at his own joke, but Altair just glared at him and his stupid name for Al-Sayf. The boy had heard an old song from a broken up band about a boy who fell for his teacher, who was called Miss Mackenzie. Ezio just applied his knowledge to the situation at hand. His Da-Vinci would be so happy with him right then.

"How's Michelangelo?"

The Italian smiled like a wolf. All teeth. "He's doing fine, and I might just be in there." Altair did a double take then, and Ezio nodded. Absently, Altair wondered what was wrong with his family and their teachers. He shook his head.

"Fucking liar."

"Hell no!"

"I bet he's bent over and you got a boner. That's as far 'in there' as you've got."

"Who bent over?"

Altair felt his flesh explode in heat as he whirled around to stare at the teacher behind them, one hand around an apple and the other around a bunch of papers. Al-Sayf fell into stride beside the boys, eyes creased in a mix of hilarity and curiosity. With a casual movement he brought the apple to his mouth and sank his teeth in. A dribble of sweet sugary water traced down the side of his jaw and down his throat, making Altair choke.

Ezio saved his ass. "We were talking about which celebrity you would fuck if we had the chance."

"Well obviously either Cheryl Cole or Muhammad Ali."

"Definitely Ali. He has a beautiful facial structure," Leonardo chirped, skipping up beside Ezio. The simple entrance turned the boy into a lump of jelly. Altair returned the favour.

"I kinda have a thing for Carol Vorderman."

"What?"

"Well, with all the Countdown's she's assisted imagine how many words she knows. She must talk like a dirty bitch in bed."

"Naw. I don't fancy the whole dirty talk. I'd want mine to be flexible, if you know what I mean."

Ezio elbowed Altair in the side, and the boy laughed at his waggling eyebrows. The teachers shared looks around the lads – Malik couldn't look over the towering boys like Leonardo – and they sauntered off ahead. Malik sank his teeth into the apple again and Leonardo gave the boys one more glance over the shoulder. When they got to the front gate, the blonde allowed the littler brunette to go first. The lads behind them almost shat their pants.

"Why thank you, Michelangelo."

"No problem, Mr. Mackenzie."

EEE

Altair made a hissing growl and threw himself past the defender. With a punt the ball met Ezio, who bumped it on his chest once to right it and booted it straight past Kadar-

And into the net.

The boy "b'dawwed" and gave the boys a frown. They swapped out, and three others replaced them in the mock game. Parking his ass on the grass, Ezio took a long draught from his water bottle, the contents having being replaced by vodka and lemonade. He was applauded by Altair and Kadar for bringing a big bottle. Kadar started.

"So, how's it going with the art teacher?"

"Pretty freaking awesome, 'cause the other day we were talking, and he was like, my model bailed on me. So I was like, hey, I've got the time." The boy smirked and shrugged. Altair grinned, since this meant hope. If Ezio could capture himself a prodigy like Leonardo, then he would be able to capture himself a Grecian god.

Simples.

Not simples. Said god had a man. An asshole of a man, but hey. Altair's face faltered and Kadar gave him a clap on the back. He never asked Kadar if it felt weird having one of his closest friends having a crush on his older brother. A guy friend. One he looked up to, and spent years with. It wasn't weird for him, though. Altair would have asked, but he knew better than to chance fate.

Kadar understood. He was good like that. He knew Altair well enough, and knew his brother well enough. He would have been surprised if Altair hadn't grown rather unexpected feelings towards the older Al-Sayf. He had even asked him if Altair would simply kill Robert, if not to take his stupid brother for himself then to free him from the bald man. Yes, Kadar really did call his big brother stupid.

"He's changed so much from how he used to be."

Neither asked why he didn't just beat De-Sable himself. They remembered the day he came in with his crutches and missing fingers. They also remembered who he said had done it to him. Malik still thinks to this day Kadar was mugged by a petty robber. Sad that it wasn't and it came from much closer to home.

Altair made a cold growl, taking a huge gulp from the bottle. The fire it left in his veins made him grunt appreciatively and with a surge he was on his feet and his shirt was over his head. "I'm gon' get cleaned up, I wouldn't want to be late getting to my tutoring!" Altair yanked his shirt off over his head, wiped his face off and took several gulps from the bottle before he jogged back to the PE block.

Ezio yelled after him, "Fucking whore."

Altair gave them a little twirl and a smacked his ass.