Malik sighed in relief after crossing the slippery balance beam that led to the abandoned area of the old Assassin stables, he had searched all over the fortress in search of Altaïr and this was the very last place. It was tedious to get through, the wooden stable was damaged anyways and the ground was uneven and with the recent weather covered in huge puddles. It was also the same stable he and Altaïr had had sex in; it was definitely out of the way because no one had come when they were yelling for each other. He was a little worried though, he had returned to his room to find it a mess and his little brother wide eyed on his untipped bed. 'Altaïr was crying' was all the explanation Kadar could give before Malik ran off to find the teen. As he neared the stable he could hear the broken, muffled sobs coming from inside, at least he had found the other. "Altaïr?"

He listened to the sound of boots scurrying on old stone and then the tell tale sound of hay being leapt into. Malik entered the stable quietly and looked around, Altaïr's hood was thrown in the corner, a few throwing knives lodged into a beam; one lying on the ground surrounded by tufts of hair…hair? "Altair!" Malik yelled in alarm and reached into the haystack to rip the younger teen from the middle. He looked like startled owl, his eyes wide and alarmed, watery with unshed tears, mouth quivering in an attempt to stay silent and his usually unruly, short brown hair was shorter in some places, "What are you doing?" Malik's fists tightened in the novice's robes and he stared down as water squelched out over his skin. "Why are you all wet?"

"Abbas…he…he held my head in the fountain…" Altaïr choked on a sob as Malik pulled him up into his arms, "I swear I did not do anything to provoke him! I could not breathe, Malik! I was drowning and you were not there!" Malik held him tighter as he cried into the crook of his neck; Abbas was always picking on Altaïr, he was a little older than Malik and too jealous of Altaïr. He would always pick on Altaïr, telling him he was stupid or that he was going to fall and die if he ever took a leap of faith. Words never really had an effect on the honey eyed boy though, he would shrug or stare boredly or sometimes come up with a clever insult; so Abbas had resorted to sabotaging Altaïr's equipment, he would barge the teen in the halls or simply try to start a fight – which Malik would usually appear and threaten to beat the living soul out of the other. But to actually try and down Altaïr! He was a dead man.

"Did you cry?" he felt Altaïr shake his head and he smiled, "Good because you know he would use it against you."

"He cornered me with Rauf and Nikil. He shoved me into the wall and caught my hair in his fist…then he dunked me." Altaïr shifted a little so that he was practically on the older teen's lap, "He told me that I should have been drowned at birth that the Christians would not have me and how I would never fit in with the Muslims. That my mother did not care when I was moved to the fortress and that father was ashamed. That even if I dyed my hair black I would never fit in anywhere." He pulled away a little to scrub at his eyes, "So…I said, 'at least I know who my father was' …he dunked me again."

Malik groaned internally. If he had of been there he would have laughed at the insult but it was a stupid thing to say to someone bigger than you, stronger and with more people. "And then he let you go, you trashed our room and ran out here when Kadar caught you crying like a little girl. You are so dumb sometimes." He began undoing the wet robes whilst trying to catch the other's eyes, "Listen to me, brother; no one cares that you are not dark skinned or completely pale, they would not care if you were blonde either. Abbas is just using anything he can to put you down…you are more skilled than him – he is jealous and so he picks on you. Give it another year and I bet he will not come near you; I mean, you are already the same height as me and no doubt you will be taller – you smug little bastard – you are not as scrawny as you used to be and – you arrogant little twerp – you are beautiful…like a mountain cat."

"S-shut up!" Altaïr muttered as he blushed and removed himself from Malik's lap after slapping his hands away from his clothing. "You are a damn liar! You said you would always back me up and…and you do not…"

"Do not what?" he snapped as he was upset that Altaïr had turned on him.

"If you thought I was beautiful then you would not avoid me like I have plague!" Malik opened his mouth to deny it but Altaïr threw him a vicious glare, "After we…in here – after you were really sweet and then the next morning you were ignoring me…you always have to study these days and you will not even train with me! Abbas would not have picked on me if you had of been there. Are you ashamed of me too?"

"No!" Malik hissed angrily and stood up to stop Altaïr from bolting again, "Damn it, Altaïr, I just have to look at you and I am harder than ever before…I want you again but you were hurting so much. I nearly tore you in two, remember that? Or was passing out enough to erase it from your mind?" both teens stared at the other one in awkward silence, Altaïr did his new trick of sucking his scarred bottom lip into his mouth and looking at the floor. Malik looked away for his sanity's sake. The clouds hid the sun and the stable was plunged into dullness and it wasn't until the room lit up again that he broke the silence, "I am sorry." Malik mumbled. He couldn't blame Altaïr for feeling angry or used and he wanted for things to go back to how they were between them – he would start by kicking Abbas's teeth in.

Altaïr shuffled forward and gripped Malik's sleeves, eyes shining as the sun caught them, "Can we try again? If you really are not ashamed of me and you really think I am beautiful…can we please do it again?" he leant forward and kissed Malik's throat gently, his tongue tasting the skin for only a moment before retreating shyly, "We can do it properly, this time I will be patient and then we can be as we were." Malik's fingers went back to undoing the wet clothing – a great feeling of Déjà vu washing over him. this was where they were three weeks ago, Malik was undoing Altaïr's wet clothing and trying his best not to ravish his best friend, trying to ignore the persistent throbbing in his trousers and failing miserably. He had already promised himself he would never have sex with Altaïr again.

00

Altaïr groaned pleasurably as Malik pulled his hip down to meet his own, "Ah! I see you are back." Altaïr chuckled as he rolled his hips teasingly, "I thought you were getting bored of me."

"I apologise, brother, especially as I seem to have left you coherent enough to speak." Malik let go of the other man's hip in favour of pulling him down by the back of his head for a hungry kiss, as enjoyable as crushing his mouth to Altaïr's, Malik couldn't suppress the tiny sigh that escaped him. it sounded disappointed enough that Altaïr slowed down to a stop and shivered slightly as he settled on Malik's lap, the man's cock throbbing deep within him. He looked down at Malik with confusion in the clouded gaze, "Why did you stop?"

"Why did you sigh?" he countered, "What has you so distracted that fucking me into oblivion is not foremost in your mind?" he was feeling a little put out at how impassionate his lover was being – usually Malik had him on his back by now, screaming and writhing like a back street whore.

Malik growled in frustration at the halt to the delicious friction he had been feeling but he knew Altaïr would not continue until he knew why he was being so listless. "You know the old stable that has not been used since we were children?" Altaïr nodded, "Well, the instructors want to tear it all down and use it for training…I agreed but…we have some good memories stored in that stable do we not?"

"Hmm, you used to take me against the wall…the floor – remember that support beam? I wonder if it still has the marks my nails left…I learned to suck you cock in there – you would force yourself to the back of my throat and not care if I choked."

"I seem to recall finding you in there with your hand wrapped around yourself, fingers thrusting into your greedy hole and moaning like a bitch in heat because you could not find your sweet spot. You then proceeded to beg me to take you until everyone in the fortress could hear you." Altaïr chuckled at that, he had been fucking his own fingers for two whole weeks whilst Malik was absent on a mission but no matter what – he couldn't find that spot! He leaned down and sucked at the scar on Malik's shoulder, the one shaped like teeth – his teeth to be precise. "That was from the first time I took you…you had been so eager that you practically tore yourself open on me, you had been so tight and you cried because it hurt – you blushed in shyness." He hissed slightly at the pressure of teeth over the old wound, "Now look at you, you complain if I prepare you and you are shameless."

Altaïr smirked and as if to prove the other's words; leant back, hands steady on Malik's knees behind himself as he lifted his hips sensually until he could feel only the tip of his partner and dropped down with a moan. His right hand rubbed along his stomach, the movement catching Malik's dark eyes – leading them to the proud length that became encased in that hand. "You made me this way. Pushing me away all the time and making me beg for you. I know you like to watch." He lifted again, arching in pleasure as Malik pulled him back down, "I had to become shameless just to get you to touch me…Tomorrow, tomorrow we will go to that stable and relive much." He rolled off of Malik and lay beside him, "Only if you stop mourning and come inside me already."

"So impatient, Altaïr." Malik pulled one of Altaïr's legs over his shoulder and roughly entered him, their moans intermingling as a steady pace was set and all sad thoughts burned up in satisfying heat. "You should be ashamed of your whorishness. The grand master that begs to be taken until he screams."

"I – I – ah!" the Assassin pushed his hips up in hopes of keeping the pressure against his prostate longer, "I have – again! Malik, oh, Malik!" the Dai smirked and slowed for a moment to let the other speak, "I have nothing to be ashamed of!" Malik grinned and leant down, nearly bending the other in two as he caught his mouth and forced his tongue past lips. His hand raked through messy, brown hair – his fingers pulling at uneven tufts of hair that never grew properly after he had tried to cut it as a teen. When Altaïr had been young, shy and bullied by those who now called him master.

Malik pulled back, hips still pistoning in and out, the same fingers mapping strong muscle and scars that marred smooth, tan skin. He adored this body but it was harder to record than a river, always changing though refreshing all the same. The body beneath him began to thrash violently, gasping and whining like he was sixteen again, the sound more satisfying with the deep guttural noises and growling – his mountain cat more like a lion in these later years. Altaïr locked up underneath him and came, nails adding to the already sore scores down his back and clamping down hard on Malik's length. The Dai groaned loudly as he released inside the man and collapsed down beside him. "Whore."

Altaïr chuckled at the insult as he moved to rest his head on Malik's chest, his right hand trailing up slick skin to trace over the bite mark on his left shoulder. "I think I should give you another – for size comparison of course." He felt Malik laugh through his harsh breathing and rubbed along the amputated limb, "Some things will never change or disappear, Malik. We still have the master's desk, Abbas's bed, the roof…the watch tower wall…I think we should do it in Abbas's new house."

Malik closed his eyes, Altaïr would never grow up. "Whore."

000

Yeah…Don't ask…but one more chapter and I promise to leave that poor abused stable alone.