"Four years or so" years later.
Malik pulled into his driveway, parking besides Kadar's new car. It had been a few years since his younger brother had received his license and it had taken months of insistent begging before Malik agreed to purchase Kadar a vehicle of his own. The sensible thing to do would've been to hand over his older car, but Malik was reluctant to give it up – it had served him well over the years and he was used to how it ran.
Malik stared at the car beside him, letting out a small sigh. He often had trouble believing Kadar was now well into college, a fully independent young man and no longer a helpless, clinging boy. Malik would frequently ponder their living situation – they couldn't live together forever. Sometimes he would consider moving in with Altaïr, for they had been going steady for four years or so, but it felt rude to ask or simply assume Altaïr would agree.
But maybe Malik should take the initiative and bring it up with his boyfriend… After all, it wasn't unusual for partners to move in together, and Altaïr was over almost every other day anyhow. Altaïr wasn't shy when expressing his physical needs, but he often needed a little coaxing with his emotional ones.
Did Malik want something more? Perhaps… Having a lover was nice in and of itself, but there was always that small chance Altaïr could move on and cozy up to someone else. Despite Altaïr's unwavering loyalty and firm confirmation that he'd never love any other man or woman – and Malik believed him – it wasn't exactly… official that Altaïr was his. The only way to claim him in such a way was… marriage.
The word hung heavy in Malik's mind. Marriage wasn't exactly a light ordeal – it was permanent. It meant new responsibilities, new challenges. New opportunities. Thinking about the possibility that one day he could call Altaïr his husband made Malik's gut twist in a strange, excited way. But what if Altaïr didn't feel the same way? Malik didn't like to doubt the other man, but he didn't want to raise a false hope… The only one he had revealed his thoughts to was Kadar, and though his brother had given his two cents on the matter, it was ultimately up to Malik to decide what the best course of action to take was.
With another, heavier sigh, Malik opened the car door and gathered his things. He'd mull over this later after he had something to eat. Locking his car behind him, Malik fished through his bag for his key and let himself in.
"I'm home—"
"Malik!" Kadar was racing towards his older brother as if he had been expecting him, his expression beaming.
Malik hesitated, glancing around him, suddenly cautious. "Yes…?"
"Come with me." Kadar reached for a small envelope on a table nearby, placing it in Malik's hand as he headed out the door, his car keys in hand.
Malik stood frozen to the spot, holding the envelope with a confused expression on his face. "Kadar, what—"
"Come on," Kadar insisted, his grin wide as he tugged impatiently on Malik's jacket. "I need to take you somewhere. Bring that envelope, you can open it on the way there."
"Kadar, I just got home—"
"It'll be worth it, Mal, I promise." Kadar backtracked, gently urging Malik outside again as he locked the door behind him. "I'll drive, we'll take my car."
"You just want to show it off," Malik grumbled under his breath; Kadar either didn't hear him or chose to ignore it. Nevertheless, Malik complied and took the passenger's seat, staring at the blank envelope in his hand as Kadar reversed out of the driveway and began to drive.
"You might want to actually open it soon," Kadar said after a minute. "Glaring at it to death won't help, and we'll arrive at our destination soon."
Malik cast a questioning glance at his brother, but bit his tongue against a snarky remark and obeyed. He was surprised to find money – a dollar and seventy-five cents – and a small post-it note that read "This one's on me. " Malik recognized the handwriting immediately and a wry smile twisted his lips. What was Altaïr planning now?
They arrived at the coffee shop where Altaïr and his friends worked within minutes and the two Al-Sayf brothers walked in. Malik nears the cash registers, expecting to see Altaïr there waiting with some sort of explanation, but he was mysteriously absent. He glanced towards Ezio, Connor, and Aveline – a young woman hired a year or two after Malik and Altaïr had first met who seemed particularly close with Connor – but they were strangely busy despite having very little customers. In fact, all the customers had already been served and seemed quite involved in their conversations. Even Kadar had disappeared from his side – probably for the bathroom.
Something was up, but Malik couldn't quite discern what it was. He approached the counter, eventually clearing his throat when no one seemed to notice him. Aveline eventually came to his aid, a poorly hidden smile gracing her full lips. "Yes?" she said politely, her beautiful eyes dancing.
"The usual," Malik said, eyes narrowing slightly. Why did it seem as if everyone else was aware of the unusual situation but him? He gave her the money left for him in the envelope and she thanked him, quickly gliding back to where Ezio and Connor stood. Malik went to stand in the waiting area, his suspicion growing once he noticed that none of them were even trying to prepare his drink. Instead they stood huddle together, speaking in hushed whispers. Letting his gaze sweep through the shop, Malik watched as none of the customers seemed to think anything was wrong. Was literally everyone in on this? And where the hell was Altaïr?
The latter of his questions was answered just as he was ready to leave or complain. Altaïr appeared from the back, swerving around the counter to approach Malik with a stunning smile. In his hands was a familiar cup of coffee. Malik eyed it and his boyfriend warily; the gesture seemed normal enough, but Altaïr was never this… joyful over such a menial, weekly task. And was that a hint of nervousness Malik detected?
"Kadar gave you my note, then?" Altaïr tilted his head, capturing Malik's lips with his own in a soft kiss.
"Yes," Malik said quickly, peering over Altaïr's shoulder. He wasn't keen on public displays of affection, but even now, none of the customers were paying the pair any attention. "Altaïr, what's all this about? Everyone's behaving very oddly."
"Nothing gets past you," Altaïr chuckled, though his voice wavered slightly and he swallowed. His nine and a half fingers drummed subconsciously against the cup in his hands, and Malik's gaze dropped to it.
"So… can I have my coffee now?"
Altaïr let out a shaky exhale and suddenly Malik was aware of Ezio's, Connor's, and Aveline's eyes on them. Choosing to ignore this detail, Malik extended his hand for the drink only to find that, when Altaïr placed it in his hand, that it was empty.
Malik's brow knitted together and he frowned. He looked up into Altaïr's golden gaze, raising an eyebrow. "Is this supposed to be a joke? April Fool's was months ago, Altaïr."
"I-I know." Altaïr gently pried the cup out of Malik's hand, placing a finger to the protesting man's lips. "Just… just listen." Altaïr's elated expression had dimmed and he licked his lips anxiously. "Malik, you… you know I love you, right?"
Malik sighed, rolling his eyes. "Yes, or at least I'd hope so."
"And you love me?"
"Altaïr, honestly, what are you—"
"Please," Altaïr begged, almost fretfully. "I just… I need to hear it from you again, right now."
Malik pursed his lips, painfully conscious of how quiet the shop had gotten. He cleared his throat, looking off to the side. "Yes, Altaïr," he mumbled softly. "I do love you."
"That very first day you came in," Altaïr murmured, closing the gap between them and smiling lightly, "you looked so angry. You had such a scowl on your face."
"Yeah, well, coffee withdrawals make me unhappy."
"When it was your turn to order, all you did was stare at me."
"I… you looked weird."
"Weird? I think you mean handso—"
"No, definitely weird. Altaïr, why are you suddenly so sentimental—"
"Well, you were by far the most beautiful customer I had ever served."
Malik blinked, frowning again. "You learned that line from Ezio, didn't you?"
Altaïr rubbed the back of his head. "No, why would you think that?" Malik saw Ezio grin widely in the distance. "Alright, maybe I did, but it's true!"
"All this is nice and wonderful, Altaïr," Malik replied, patience wearing thin, "but that still doesn't answer my question about the empty cup." He grabbed it again and before Altaïr could snatch it back, popped the lid off with his thumb. "What was the point in giving me the money and having me pay—"
Malik's breath caught in his throat. The cup wasn't empty after all. Everything around him seemed to dissolve and it was instantly twice as hard to breathe. On the bottom of the cup, surrounded by a thin chain, was a single silver ring.
"That's an…"
"Engagement ring." Altaïr wrung his hands, golden eyes shimmering hopefully. "I – I didn't know how else to ask you, I tried to be original. Kadar helped, actually, he told me to act fast before someone else steals you away, but I was just so nervous because I was worried you didn't want such a commitment, but when Kadar told me you were—" Altaïr inhaled shakily, taking Malik's hand – which still held the cup – in his.
"I – I want this, Malik," he continued, swallowing. "And before you get upset, I didn't get these lines from Ezio. I want this because I love you and I want to continue loving you til the day I die. You gave my life direction the moment you entered it… you're the only one who will tell me my outfit looks terrible, or that my hair's an absolute mess, or that I should never attempt to sing ever again. You'll eat my cooking even when it's what you call 'garbage' and let me crash at your place whenever I work the late shift. You and Kadar have so graciously allowed me into your lives, and I'm honestly blessed to be a part of your family." Altaïr offered a lopsided grin as he sank onto one knee, pouring out the ring into the palm of his hand.
"Will you, Malik Al-Sayf, allow me, Altaïr ibn La'Ahad, the honor of calling you my husband?"
Malik openly gaped, at a complete loss for words. He wanted to scream yes, but at the same time he was still trying to comprehend the situation. Still trying to catch up. Altaïr was proposing – he was – this was – he should – he was going to get married?
That was, if he could get his voice to work.
He managed to whisper "yes" and suddenly the tension dissipated and everyone seemed to sigh in relief. The entire café burst into applause as the customers stood and cheered. Ezio whooped loudly, winking, as Connor clapped politely and Aveline nodded appreciatively. Kadar rushed forward, followed closely by Maria.
"Congrats, brother!" Kadar exclaimed, surrounding Malik in a hug and resting his cheek on the top of Malik's head (he had had a ridiculous growth spurt since Altaïr had first met him). "I'm so happy you said yes! Now Altaïr can officially be my brother-in-law, this is so great. I bet you weren't expecting this, huh? Nice surprise, wasn't it? I so wanted to tell you, I really did, but I knew it'd spoil everything and Altaïr told me not to, but I was just so excited and I—"
Maria laid a hand on Kadar's shoulder, kindly silencing him. "Put the ring on him, Altaïr," she murmured, eyes twinkling.
Altaïr detangled the chain connected to the ring, holding it in both hands. Malik inclined his head, allowing Altaïr to place it around his neck, and as he felt the cold metal graze his collarbone, he suddenly couldn't hold back a smile. This was real, it was official. He opened his mouth to speak but Altaïr beat him to it, grabbing Malik's jaw with both hands and hastily bringing him forward into a deep kiss. The cheering renewed – Ezio's "finally!" was especially easy to hear – as Malik returned the gesture, hand grasping the back of Altaïr's shirt.
At last, they pulled apart, nudging noses. Both men had mile-long smiles, gold and brown eyes locked. Altaïr pressed in to place another kiss on the corner of Malik's mouth, then another on his nose, his eyes, his forehead, anywhere Malik's skin was currently exposed. The newly-engaged couple wished they weren't in a public building, but the bedroom.
"I want my money back," Malik whispered, trying to ignore his rising desire for Altaïr.
"You mean my money?"
"Then I want my coffee."
Altaïr finally stopped bathing Malik in kisses long enough to smirk, fingering the ring hanging from Malik's neck. "Anything for you, sweetie."