Okay, so what had happened with this story was… *deep breath* I was gonna try and do one of those song meme things when I came across The Middle by Jimmy Eat World. I started writing it and then I was like, 'hey, this is taking me too long.' So it just ended up being a song-dedicated AltMal fic. Enjoy!

Oh yeah, and Altair is 17 and Malik is 19. Kadar, who is off doing something random, is 12.

And I know I should be doing ATGB and Aerials, but I'm working on Aerials and I've kind of hit a wall on ATGB. There's a hole between the chapter online and the end that I need to fill with a trip to Acre. Ideas, anyone? Please?

…

Malik was tired of this.

He was tired of Altair always getting everything, of him besting all of his opponents and being the Master's pet. Even Kadar was beginning to fall under his spell, to admire him better than his own brother! It was unfair—he was tired of always being so… inferior.

He slammed the door to his quarters shut and sat down on his bed, pulling his knees into his chest. Completely against his will, his shoulders began to quiver and it took until he was forced to sniff to notice that he was crying.

Sometime while Malik was drowning in his own self-pity the door opened and closed. "…Malik?"

He tried to respond but only managed a pathetic whimper, inwardly cursing himself for it.

Altair moved closer, putting a hand on his roommate's shoulder. "Mal, what's wrong?" He never thought he'd see the day Malik was reduced to tears.

"You," he spat harshly, pushing the other novice away.

Altair frowned. "I don't understand."

Malik glared at him with gold eyes tinged with red. "You always get everything—the fighting skills, the Master's favoritism, my own brother's admiration… I'm always second to you. It's tiresome."

Altair sighed. "I'm sorry."

Malik snorted, disbelieving. "For what?"

"For making you feel less than you are. These things come easily to me," he explained with a humble smile. "I don't mean to take your brother of Al Mualim or whatever it is you accuse me of; I simply do what is asked of me."

"As if that makes me feel any better."

Altair smirked. "It should make you feel better that you're the only one to scar me," he said, tapping lightly at the still-pink scar crossing his lips.

"That was an accident."

"There is just no pleasing you, is there?" Altair asked, only half-joking.

"Of course not," Malik hissed, indignantly swiping his tears away with the gray sleeve of his garb. "You don't even care—you're trying to talk me out of my misery so I'll no longer bother you. You don't care about me or any—"

He was cut off as Altair's lips descended upon his own. He blinked in surprise, part of him loving it while the other still fumed with rage. But the former part was dominant and his eyes slid closed, his arms coming up to hook around Altair's shoulders. His hand, in turn, curled around the small of Malik's back.

Then suddenly, without warning, Altair's tongue forced its way into his mouth. He didn't mind in the least, instead opening his mouth to let the warm organ explore, their tongues dancing in an odd feeling borne of angst and contempt.

At last, as air became lost to them both, Altair pulled away with a wet smack and smiled at the furious blush that was painted across his roommate's high cheekbones. "I care a lot, actually."

Malik's face took on a look of mock surprise, to which he earned a playful punch in the chest, and he also smiled. He placed his hands on either side of Altair's face and pulled it to his, so their foreheads were touching, and murmured, "Apology accepted."

…

Note: Altair didn't start being an arrogant bastard until he got to Master. It got to his head, I think.

Oh, hey, did you notice that I actually made it sound kinda 1183-ish? I'm quite proud of meself X3

-D0N