It's been about a week, so I think I've tempted you guys enough. eve Here's that lemon chapter I promised! Dunno if I'm gonna continue past this, though. I only wrote out up to what you see here. If you'd like to see more of their lives after this, just review or inbox me, or give me some ideas. Of course, I'd be sprinkling nice little lemons into the plot. owo

Warnings: Language, adult themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed! If I did, no assassin would be straight. :)

He cracked an eye open only to stare, wide-eyed, at the top of Altaïr's head. He was licking the sauce off in slow, dragging circles.

"Wh… hey- AH! Altaïr!" The man licked straight up from sternum to collar bone, looking very much like a cat. An incredibly sexy cat.

Malik reached his hand up, whether to push him away or yank him closer, he wasn't sure. Before he could do anything, though, he fell backwards, having lost his only means of balance. His head hit the floor and he groaned. Altaïr took advantage of the moment and swung his leg over the other, straddling him.

Malik rubbed his head. "What do you think you're doing!?"

Altaïr wiped his smiling mouth with his thumb, eyes smoldering. "You looked uncomfortable with all that sauce on you. I thought I'd help clean it." He leaned down, pinning Malik's good arm. "Besides, you taste delicious," he whispered, and punctuated this by licking his lips seductively.

Malik shivered. He was speechless, but when his friend went back to work licking clean his chest, a stifled moan escaped him. He was rapidly losing the will to fight back. What was he thinking? He should be stopping Altaïr, not letting him do whatever perverted thing he was doing with his tongue and oh god, it felt so good.

Altaïr began using his free arm to lightly trace up and down his abdomen and side, back and forth, before coming to rest with his thumb over a nipple. It made Malik bite his bottom lip and wish he'd do something with that damned thumb. Then a grim thought managed to break through the sudden horniness and his mood turned more sour than usual.

"Is this another one of your sick jokes?"

Abruptly Altaïr stopped and sat up. He stared down at Malik with a mix of confusion, seriousness, and a hint of hurt.

"What do you mean?" he asked, the slurry of emotions just barely hidden in his voice.

Malik's brow furrowed. "I mean, you're always sexually harassing me and shit. This one is going a little too far, don't you think?"

There was a brief moment of silence when Altaïr looked away. Malik propped himself up on his one arm to be even with him. The quiet stretched on seemingly forever until Altaïr appeared to have made up his mind.

"You know that porn that I told you my dad found?" he finally said with a sigh.

The question was seemed rather off-topic so it took a minute for Malik to process it. "Yeah…?"

"It… he was really, really furious with me." Altaïr looked at Malik through the corner of his eye. "Not just because it was porn, though. He gave me that talk… because it was gay porn."

Malik's elbow wobbled a little. 'That… explains a lot. But… is that why he always flirts with me? Or is it because he… likes me? If it's that… oh my god.' His thoughts were racing, but Altaïr continued on.

"You know, I think that's why he practically hated me," he humorlessly laughed. "Once he found out that his best friend's son was gay, that his own adopted son was into guys…" He shook his head at the memory. "Yeah, he wasn't exactly sad to see me go to college."

"Altaïr…" Malik whispered softly.

He held up a hand to silence him. Altaïr didn't need pity; Malik already knew that his relationship with his father was tough. Hell, he spent more of his time at Malik's house than his own just to avoid the guy when they were in high school. But to see Altaïr open up like this… his eyes were glistening and he spoke so honestly, no jokes despite how he tried to make light of it. It was a rare sight, and a very little known side to the man.

"I'm not finished. There's something else I probably should have told you a long time ago, but I was too afraid..." He took a shaky breath.

Malik's heart was hammering. 'No way. This must be a dream. There's no way this is actually happening.'

Altaïr looked him straight in the eyes. "In case it wasn't obvious, you're more than just a friend or brother to me, Malik. I am in love with you."

Now his heart was pounding in his ears. He didn't know what to say; he saw the conversation turning to this, knew it was coming, yet it was still a shock to hear it out loud. It brought to mind all the playful jokes over the years, how Ataïr would seem to find any excuse to be with him, how he constantly invaded his personal space to get as much physical contact as he could.

And then there was Malik's side: he couldn't deny that his mood significantly lifted whenever he was around, even if he pretended he was a burden. He smiled more, and actually laughed whole-heartedly- something very few people managed to accomplish, especially after losing his left arm and his brother Kadar in the car accident years ago. Altaïr was his main support at that time, too; he visited the hospital every day and helped ease his grief in the months that followed. He found it hard to say no to him, and indulged in his crazy antics. Regardless of his mood or behavior, Malik never pushed him and his friendship away.

Of course, there were also the dreams. He had been so ashamed; how could he be thinking of his best friend in such a way? But he couldn't control the dreams, or stop himself from checking him out when he wasn't looking, and certainly the dirty thoughts tended to run wild. Despite what he said otherwise, he secretly didn't mind all that seemingly false flirting and innuendos about the two of them.

This man was undeniably central to his life.

However, it appeared his epiphany took longer than just a few seconds, because Altaïr began to get up, hurt evident on his face.

"Sorry," he rasped. Tears threatened to spill out of embarrassment and heartbreak, but he was very clearly holding them off with cold determination. "I probably just ruined everything. I didn't mean… Just forget I said anything. Sorry."

"Wait!" Malik grabbed his hand. Altaïr's gaze shot down at him. Malik licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I… I love you, too."

He didn't particularly know what Altaïr's reaction would be, but the one he got was unexpected. He narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand free. "Don't try to make me feel better. I told you, just forget it."

Malik blinked in shock, but shook his head angrily and stood up as well. "I'm not! I'm being honest here!"

Altaïr's frown deepened. "I don't believe you."

'This is not going well…' Malik gritted his teeth. "I'm serious, Altaïr. I love you. And up until now, I didn't think you'd love me back!" His anger was seeping into his words. 'This is unbelievable. He says he loves me, and then he rejects me. What the hell is it going to take to get him to believe me?'

Altaïr crossed his arms. "That didn't sound very sincere."

Malik roughly grabbed the front of his shirt, fed up with this. "You asshole. I really do fucking love you." Then he leaned in and kissed him.

At first, Altaïr was frozen. But after a brief pause he quickly started kissing back, and dear lord, it was sweet. He uncrossed his arms to cup Malik's face, holding him tenderly. The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together, tasting each other. Malik's hand released the fabric to trail up to the back of Altaïr's head, trying to bring them as close together as possible, before they had to stop to catch their breaths.

"Believe me… now?" Malik panted.

A small smile formed on Altaïr's now moist lips. "I may need… more convincing."

Malik chuckled and brought their lips together again. Altaïr's hands travelled to his neck and the small of his back. Lightly, he dragged his fingers along Malik's spine, causing him to shiver. He was reminded of his lack of shirt, and the reason for it in the first place.

Then it clicked. 'That bastard had planned on this! The truth or dare, the sauce… he probably knew the storm would knock out the power, too. Well two can play at this game.' He detached himself from the other's arms and walked back to the middle of the room, sitting down on the floor.

"Malik?" Altaïr sounded confused. Malik just looked up at him with a wry smile and gestured to his chest, spots of sauce still present.

"You didn't finish cleaning up your mess."

Cracking an uncharacteristically wide grin, Altaïr got down on his knees in front of Malik, who went back to leaning on his arm. Altaïr practically crawled up his body, licking the rest of the sauce away as he ventured up to Malik's pecks. His tongue darted out over a nipple, playing with it before capturing it in his mouth. Malik closed his eyes at the sensation, emitting a small sound and let Altaïr push him gently onto his back. Altaïr kissed up to his collar bone and grazed his teeth along his skin. When Malik squirmed, he knew he found his sweet spot. The man beneath him gasped and tangled his fingers in his hair as he marked him. It was a mix of pain and mostly pleasure, bringing a half-smile to Malik's lips.

Meawhile Altaïr's hands got busy roaming his body, eager to memorize every inch. He felt like he would melt under their touch, but he didn't want to give Altaïr the complete satisfaction of knowing just how much it affected him; better to keep some ground on this battlefield. When they got to his hips they followed the hem of his jeans and paused above the button. Altaïr came up to face Malik, question in his eyes. Even now, he was hesitating, making sure this was exactly what Malik wanted to do.

'How sweet…'

Malik leaned up and bit into the other's lip, relishing in the taste of his blood. "Quit teasing," he growled.

There was no verbal response, just a smirk and movement, and then his pants were suddenly at his knees, the bulge in his boxers now very evident. Taking the cue he grabbed the back of Altaïr's shirt and tugged it up. The man slipped out of it, then took off his borrowed sweats as Malik worked off his own pants and undergarments. He looked up to first see a naked Altaïr, which made all his blood rush to his groin. His fantasies did not do him justice: the man was nicely muscled, yet lean, his skin creamy chocolate and smooth, save for a few scars. His face was flushed and his erection was evident, but he kept on his calm and superior expression. Malik wanted nothing more than to change that.

His eyes travelled down Altaïr's body, as he was sure he was doing to him, and noticed something about the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Really?" His eyebrow quirked and he gestured at Altaïr's lack of underwear. "Do you always go commando when you borrow my clothes?"

Altaïr huffed as he descended once more on top of his prey. "So what if I do? I like the freedom."

"Hmm, I think I'd rather you be in something more," Malik mused, and ground his hips up to show exactly what he meant. It caused both of them to gasp.

"Will do," Altaïr whispered huskily. Malik soaked in this new voice, loving it. "But first…" His hand went down between their bodies and grasped both of their dicks together. He started a steady pump that got Malik to arch his back and moan.

"Altaïr…" It came out low and unsteady, almost unrecognizable from his usual aggrieved tone. He felt the other shudder above him. Apparently his voice had the same effect.

Lips found neck once more, and that tongue traced up to his ear, where he nibbled on the lobe. "Say that again," Altaïr murmured, breath hot and tingly on the wet skin.

Malik smirked and dug his fingers into the man's back. "Altaïr," he purred, and bucked into his grasp. The friction this created between their erections caused that hot breath to hitch, then groan. Malik basked in the newfound power over Altaïr and wondered how far it went.

Altaïr stopped him from finding out by pulling his hand away. Malik had to stop himself from mewling at the loss, and annoyance flashed across his face. But then three fingers went into Altaïr's mouth, and damn if that wasn't the sexiest sight to behold; the way his tongue wrapped around the digits, then disappeared into that luscious mouth. Coupled with those lustful eyes staring right at him as he did it, making him burn up inside, Malik thought he'd cum right then and there.

'Can't spoil that fun just yet,' he reminded himself. Needing to stop this blatant display of eroticism, he reached up, slipping the fingers from Altaïr's mouth to his own. He tasted himself and Altaïr, together, and he curiously ran his tongue around each finger.

The look on Altaïr's face was priceless; it went from mild shock to utter desire. "Damn…" he breathed, and then instinctually rutted down. Malik 'mph'ed, his expression showing pure pleasure, and the hand was suddenly gone.

"Hey," he whined. He had been really getting in to his task, and the heat and pressure of Altaïr on top of him only got him more excited.

Altaïr sounded uneven and a bit desperate. "Can't wait. Got any lube?"

'Oh ho ho, and the mighty Altaïr is now under my control.' Malik smirked and nodded towards his room. "In the night stand. Top drawer."

Altaïr quickly got to his feet, making a face at how uncomfortable that was for his hard-on, and made his way to the bedroom. Malik considered waiting for him in the living room, but the thought of rug burn was enough to make him get up and follow suit.

Altaïr glanced over his shoulder at his approach. He waved the half-empty bottle accusingly.

Malik shrugged. "A guy's gotta masturbate." He sat on the bed, legs carelessly spread apart.

He hid his smile when he saw Altaïr's expression out of the corner of his eye. The game had changed. Now Malik had the chance to act out all those dirty fantasies he'd locked away; he was ready to get started as soon as possible. It seemed Altaïr, however, was under the illusion he'd be the one in control.

'Ha!' Malik mentally scoffed. 'We'll see who is in charge tonight. Top or bottom, it doesn't matter, Altaïr. I will be the one orchestrating the whole thing.'

Altaïr put a healthy amount of lube on his fingers and crawled between Malik's legs. His tongue slipped into his partner's mouth then and he pulled Malik's right leg onto his shoulder. Malik winced at the sudden contortionist act and brought his other leg up, hooking them behind his back. He could feel the lubed hand prodding at his entrance and the touch vaguely reminded him of the sweet sauce. Malik shuddered at the memory and ran his fingers through Altaïr's short hair, urging him to go on.

He sighed as the first, then the second slipped in and started moving. After years of pleasuring himself in such a manner, and the occasional drunken fling, the intrusion wasn't uncomfortable. Having someone else do it was welcomed with open arms, especially Altaïr. The man clearly knew what he was doing. Although it was hard to tell whether it was from all the porn or actual experience, but at this point he couldn't care less. All he could focus on was how damn good it felt.

"Mm, Altaïr," Malik hummed, his Adam's apple vibrating against his descending lips. "Give me more."

Altaïr paused at the slightly commanding tone. He was suspicious, but nonetheless, he added another finger and sunk his teeth where neck met shoulder. Malik squeezed with his legs, inhaling sharply. The feeling was wonderful, pain mixed with pleasure, and he struggled to not just let Altaïr ravage him relentlessly. He swore he was going to be the one holding the other at his mercy.

He tugged Altaïr's head up next to his and licked the shell of his ear. Taking a shuddering breath, he spoke: "That's nice… but I want even more."

To his satisfaction, the man groaned and readily complied. "God fucking dammit, Malik," he muttered as he removed his digits to align the prize. "When- ha- the hell did you get so lecherous?"

Malik moaned as he slowly entered him. "About the time- un- I first saw you topless, I'd say."

"Really?" Altaïr sounded amused. Purposefully he dragged back out, almost slower than when he entered. "Tell me more."

'That son of a bitch,' Malik cursed inside his head. "Is now really- ah- the time for talking?"

The shit-eating grin was back; he could feel it against his cheek. Another painfully slow in. "Tell me what you like about me. What turns you on?"

Malik grit his teeth. 'You can't be fucking serious. I'm the one who should be doing this- not you!' But he knew if he wanted him to move… "Bastard. I can't believe this." He sighed almost regrettably. "Your stupid face when you smile." The speed picked up the tiniest amount.

Angrily, Malik began ticking off the things. "Your ass whenever you drop stuff, the way you ignore when you look like a mess like an idiot, how you always have the balance of a fucking- mh- cat, when you come out of a shower and you parade your damned body around- ah- half naked, the way you look when you- ha- fall asleep, when you're doing your f-flippy shit and don't give a- nn- fuck about gravity, how you c-couldn't care less what the world thought a-about any- hah- anybody, unh, and oh my fucking god, faster!"

Above him, Altaïr started increasing his thrusts, huffing. Malik was losing coherency and control, slipping away into the pleasure. Their lips met briefly, but they had to separate as they were panting heavily. Malik knew it was a response to what Altaïr had him do; it was a sign to tell him that he didn't have to finish with the sappy 'I love everything about you' line; he got the message, and he loved him back, so he was going to make him feel as good as he could.

The man was easily fulfilling that. He began pumping Malik in time with his thrusts while adjusting the position of his hips. Malik's head tipped back in a strangled cry as Altaïr found the magic spot. Stars danced across his vision and he gripped hard at his handhold.

His lover didn't seem to mind, though, for he whimpered out his name and his motions became erratic. The night's earlier activities had already excited them, so it was only a matter of time before both were gasping and clutching at each other, faces twisted in blissful orgasm.

After finally coming down from their high, Altaïr pulled out and collapsed next to Malik. They laid there for a solid five minutes with neither one of them speaking.

"I suppose that was pretty convincing," Altaïr sighed after a time. It earned him a punch in the shoulder. "Ow. What?" he asked, rubbing the spot though the punch hadn't really hurt.

"You're such an ass," Malik murmured, and brushed the man's cheek. He leaned in and gave a soft kiss on his lips, none of the previous passion in it, just gentle affection.

Altaïr smiled. "I love you, too."

"Yeah, yeah," came the response. He sat up and peered down at their sweaty bodies. "We should probably get cleaned up…"

"Take a shower in pitch darkness?" Altaïr pulled back, surprised. The power was still out, and would probably make it hard to even find anything. But then he thought more on the situation… "Yeah, I'm game. I've always wanted to have sex in the shower."

He jumped out of bed, running, as Malik attempted to beat him senseless.

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BECOME ONE WITH MOTHER RUSSIA, DA?