Malik smirked at the other teen; Altaïr was red faced and fidgeting madly with his belt. "I am sorry, I did not quite hear you, brother – would you say it again?" he watched gleefully as Altaïr's eyes narrowed in annoyance, his mouth clamped shut and his fingers turn white as he gripped his clothing.

"F-forget it! I am going back to my lessons!" came the indignant reply from the younger novice. He had thought it would be something Malik would enjoy, he thought the other one would enjoy it but if he was going to be an arsehole – he was not staying. "Next time I think to do something nice for you – I will not!" he pulled his hood back on with a rough jerk and stalked toward the door.

"Altaïr." Malik called as he quickly captured him around the waist, "Do you really want to go to swimming lessons?" the struggling teen stopped still and Malik grinned triumphantly, "I thought not. I was just surprised you asked for such a thing – or that you even thought of it." He pulled Altaïr's hood back down and began kissing his neck gently, "It is an offer I am hardly going to refuse." Leaving his neck with a teasing nip, Malik left his side and sat down on an empty barrel. Altaïr pouted in annoyance but following to stand before the other, he wasn't as excited by his idea as much as he had been but it was better than being forced into the lake; he shivered at the thought. "You do not have to…"

The novice shook his head quickly, "I want to…just…swimming lessons…" Malik hid his amusement at the other and instead watched as he dropped to his knees with a deep breath. Reaching behind Malik, he undid the buckles of the belt and unwrapped the red sash, he had wanted to do this for a few weeks now but was too embarrassed to just do it – he thought Malik would laugh at him…which he had. Whilst Altaïr was distracted by his thoughts Malik had shrugged out of his short white robe and grey top, when he moved his legs further apart the teen seemed to flinch. His golden eyes flicked up at the other nervously, licking his lips as he played with the ties on Malik's trousers, "one snide comment, Malik, and I will leave you hard and alone." he watched him nod and after a sour look rubbed his palms up Malik's stomach and chest to pull his head down for a kiss. Malik took his face roughly and shoved his tongue through scarred lips – he knew by the surprised yelp that Altaïr wasn't expecting it.

They had been separated for a week, Malik had been on an information gathering mission with one of his instructors and it was the first time since they had begun sleeping together that they had been apart for so long. He couldn't help being a little desperate now that they were alone; Kadar had been particularly annoying lately. 'Brother, can I watch you train? Brother, that boy is picking on me again! Brother, is there possibly any other way I can disturb you whilst you try to get alone time with Altaïr so you can pound him into the floor? Malik groaned as Altaïr began rubbing him through the material of his trousers, as the blood drained from his brain and down to his crotch he was more interested in stripping Altaïr than having the boy suck him. Altaïr pulled his mouth away with a new determination and quickly untied Malik's trousers; not overly concerned that Malik had gotten so hard from a kiss. "I swear if Kadar finds us…I will throw him off a cliff – after I make him watch me do this."

"He does not understand what we are doing – Ah!" he bit his bottom lip as Altaïr grabbed him with a cold hand and stroked slowly up and down, "Warn me next time!" he hissed and landed a flick to the other's ear. Altaïr glared up at him with a look that said, 'no, pay attention' before boldly swiping his tongue across Malik's tip – the resulting noise from the older novice making Altaïr smile. He gave another curious lick, this time along the underside using the flat of his tongue and squeezing lightly with his hand. It was most certainly strange, the feeling on his tongue much different than his hand – like something silky soft over hard steel. And then when he rubbed his closed lips over the tip it was stranger still! His scar tingling with an odd numbness one side and overly sensitive on the other, "Damn it, Altaïr – stop teasing me." Came Malik's breathless plea.

Pulling away, Altaïr stared at him a little wide eyed, "Just…open my mouth and take you in?"

"I would assume so." He replied sarcastically. Altaïr had been the one who wanted to do this and yet the annoying nit had no clue as to what he was doing! "Like candy. Treat me like candy but do not bite down – I assure you there is no soft filling." Altaïr shrugged at him with nonchalance and simply sucked the older teen into his mouth. For Malik it was enough to make him shut his eyes with a needy moan and lean back on his hands to allow the other more room. Altaïr's mouth was so warm, his tongue swirling around the head f his cock was better than a hand could ever be and then when he seemed to point his tongue and abuse the slit Malik could only thrust up in reaction. Altaïr pulled away quickly at the action and looked up in alarm, "Do not stop! Please, Altaïr, do not stop."

Taking him in again Altaïr tried a little further, managing to take at least half of Malik's length before the other tried to thrust up again. He placed his hands on the other's hips and sent a nervous look upwards – surely Malik wouldn't choke him? seeing the dark haired teen with his head thrown back and mouth open to release deep, satisfied groans made him realise that – yes, Malik probably would try to choke him. Fact. Malik moved his left hand to the back of Altaïr's head, his fingers curling in the brown hair a little too tightly, wanting desperately to pull him further down but knowing it would end badly. As pleasurable as it was, he wasn't quite able to understand why people rating oral sex so highly; it was nothing like the tightness of another body and there was not nearly enough friction. He was about to tell Altaïr that it was enough – until the other began bobbing his head. Malik's fingers tightened in his hair and without realising began to push his head down further, ignoring how Altaïr's hands were leaving bruises on his hips.

Ripping his mouth away suddenly, Altaïr coughed haggardly into his hand, tears pricking his eyes as he tried to take some deep breaths. Malik muttered a small apology as he watched him choke slightly, his own hand stroking his hair gently, "Perhaps we should stop…I can not promise not to do that again." Altaïr shook his head vehemently and went to try again – Malik's grip holding him back, "Do not force yourself!"

"I want to!" he countered, "Just stop trying to force me down." As he spoke he continued to stroke roughly along the other's shaft, leaning forward to swipe the pearly liquid leaking from him and went down once more. Now that he had found out what Malik liked and the odd taste and muskiness was no longer strange, it was easier to tear sounds from Malik's throat, to make him squirm and thrust and pull on hair. He must have been concentrating hard on Malik's pleasure because he missed all the signs that indicated the other was close to orgasm, he ignored the desperate tug on his hair, then there were two hands on his head and he was pulled down until Malik's length hit the back of his throat. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do once the older novice's hands contracted except try to swallow and pull away as soon as his muscles relaxed. Once again Altaïr felt his eyes sting and his throat constrict as he coughed and sputtered violently – he vaguely wondered why every time he did something new with Malik, he ended up uncomfortable, in pain or coughing up something.

Malik slowly came back to his senses; he could feel the warm weight of Altaïr's head on his thigh and hot breath against hip. Looking down he shuddered at the sight of his younger lover and felt a little bad – he was taking deep gasps of air, his lips glistened with saliva and come, some of it staining his flushed cheeks. "Not bad…for a first attempt." Altaïr's eyes slitted open and Malik could practically feel the sharp prickling from the daggers being thrown his way. He wiped the novice's face gently and licked away what remained of his release, Altaïr practically whimpered at the display and his own aching cock throbbed painfully – this was hardly a fair exchange! As if hearing his thoughts, Malik stood up on shaky legs, hauling Altaïr up with him and planted a firm kiss on him, "I also want to try something new," he muttered as he pulled away, leaving sharp bites along the teen's shoulder, fingers pulling at his clothes lazily whilst at the same time pushing him toward the stable wall.

Altaïr's belt hit the floor with a thud; his sash was not dropped but flung over Malik's left shoulder like a river of blood – something about that image made Altaïr pause and want to tear the offending material away. Teeth grazed over his collar bone to his already pebbled nipples that stung in anticipation of the other's mouth sliding over them, and when it did the boy threw his head back wantonly and grasped Malik's head closer. Somehow he found himself devoid of everything but his trousers and boots, his red sash being wound around his forearms and wrists securely, "What are you doing, Malik?"

"Tying you up." Came the simple reply. He turned the honey eyed novice around and pressed his chest up against the wall, ignoring the little pained gasps when splinters pierced into the other's flesh. Altaïr blinked when he felt Malik leave him, he pulled away from the wall and was about to turn to find out what was happening when he was shoved back against the wall. His bound arms were pulled up above his head and a distinctive thwack rang in his ears; looking up he saw that Malik had thrust a silver throwing knife through the red sash and barely missed both his wrists. He swallowed hard, reigning in all his control to not pull at his bindings and panic – Malik would not hurt him; Malik would never hurt him on purpose – he trusted Malik. "It is alright, brother." Hands caressed up along his ribs and pinched a nipple roughly before placing his knee between his legs, "I seem to have an advantage now. it being that now that I have come in your pretty little mouth – I could probably leave you hanging her for a long time…just teasing you."

"Please do not!" Altaïr pleaded quietly, "I beg you, Malik, please let me come, please…I have missed you all week!" this wasn't fair! He had done something pleasurable for the other and now he was going to be tortured – if he had to beg then so be it! "The first few days were tolerable but on the third day I went mad with lust and you were not here to help me. No matter how many times I came by my own hand; it was not enough…please take me! You do not even have to prepare me, just fuck me!" by this point he was rubbing his clothed crotch against Malik's knee in a meagre attempt at gratification.

"I was stuck with my instructor the entire time – I did not even get the chance to pleasure myself…I bet you snuck out here at night. I bet you wore my night robe and stroked yourself like a wanton little slut with my scent all around you." Altaïr's every breath seemed to end in excited little gasps and moans as Malik, bit and licked and touched every inch of tanned skin he could reach. His words so dark and heavy in the younger teen's ears that he'd closed his eyes to try and block out the words. "I bet you pushed your own fingers inside your greedy little hole and thought about me pushing and pulling out of you – and do not deny it because you did not put the salve jar away afterwards." As if to prove the point Malik placed the said jar on a shelf beside Altaïr. "How deep could you go? How many fingers could you fit?"

Altaïr whined longingly as he felt Malik's body flush against his back, "Malik! Malik Malik Malik!" the older removed his knee and smirked t the frustrated cry and curses falling from the other's mouth. "You bastard! Stop teasing me and do it already! I swear if you do not I will find someone who will and – Ugh!" two slicked fingers shoved into him unceremoniously and Altaïr hissed at the ache that accompanied it.

"You will not find anyone else that can do this to you." Malik hissed back in his ear, fingers moving quickly and in jerky actions that he knew would stretch Altaïr as well as cause him some discomfort. Usually he was careful, usually he would ease his fingers in one at a time and make Altaïr into a quivering mess against him – but usually Altaïr didn't threaten to find someone else. "No one can make you cry out like I can; no one else would reduce you to a miserably whining little whore and make you love it! You are too proud to bend over for anyone else, you like the way I make you shiver and cry and burn up like a wild fire." He slipped a third finger in and pushed against the novice's prostate with mapped accuracy – knowing just how much pressure to give before it became to much. "I might just make you come with my fingers and leave you hanging here…see if I can find you someone suitable to do the job properly."

"I am sorry…please – there will never be anyone else, I swear it!" Altaïr pushed onto the long fingers desperately, begging for this pleasurable torture to end now that Malik's fingers had pulled out – hoping that Malik's show of jealousy would not last. He watched the dark skinned arm reach past his head for more of the salve in the jar, a generous amount of the oily liquid drooling through his fingers before vanishing out of sight and Malik's satisfied moans vibrated off the back of his neck. "I – I want to see you!"

Malik slowed at the desperate demand and remembered that this was not something to be rushed, this was all new and Altaïr, despite acting cool and aloof, was still like a skittish colt during their intimate moments. Malik reached around to the nearly bursting erection that Altaïr was suffering from and gave a few firm tugs with his slicked fingers. "Not this time, this will be more comfortable for you anyway." A whine started to form in the back of Altaïr's throat and Malik took that as a queue to make him think of something else. He used his free hand to hold the other's hip steady and pushed against the still too tight entrance of his partner, shushing him when pained whimpers escaped his throat, "would someone else be careful with you like this?" Altaïr shook his head, leaning it back against Malik's shoulder and taking in deep lungfuls of air to help cope with the burning of being stretched so wide. Malik stared at the fanned eyelashes of his lover, frowning every time fine eyebrows contracted in pain, "look at me." He asked s he pressed chaste little kisses to his cheek every time he slipped a little further in.

Altaïr's eyes opened and he happily got lost in the almost black eyes of the older teen, he had read that the eyes were the windows to the soul – if that was so, then Malik's eyes were too deep to ever see into him but they got you lost in the depths, Altaïr would happily stay lost. Malik sighed and a slight shift indicated that he was fully sheathed inside, Altaïr clenched slightly and both gasped at the sensation; one at the exquisite heat and tightness, the other at being so filled and stretched. The hand on the younger novice's manhood began moving with slow, determined strokes and the younger of the two let his eyes fall shut again as he tried to move with that hand – being trapped between wanting to have Malik as deep as possible and wanting to thrust up against that hand.

It didn't take him long to get accustomed to the feeling and allow the other to pull nearly all the way out before filling him again. He was too aroused and he'd waited too long for these sensations, that Altaïr found himself not caring when his chest was crushed against the wall, the pricks of tiny wooden slivers insignificant when compared by the almost brutal pounding of the one behind him, the hand on him squeezing in time with pistoning hips as Altaïr cried and gasped and tore at his bindings until they were twisted tight around his wrists. And when Malik finally let him come, he came with a near scream and his body became so taut that he though he might shatter.

Malik shook slightly after he had recovered enough to carry his own weight; he never wanted to be apart from the other for so long again! He looked at Altaïr, and blinked in surprise, the novice's chest was heaving in exhaustion, his body hanging limply by his arms as his legs had given out beneath him. His attention was caught by the come and oil that ran down the backs of Altaïr's thighs and he had to remind himself that the other would not appreciate being left to hang whilst he was gawked at. He reached to pull the knife out of the wall and release the teen but before his clumsy fingers could touch it, the red sash tore apart and landed Altaïr into Malik's arms.

00

The next morning Altaïr was picking splinters from his chest in frustration after having refused Malik's help. He was grateful it was a day of rest because he could barely walk and he still felt pleasantly lethargic from the previous night's orgasm. Kadar watched curiously as his idol pulled the wooden slices out and put them in the basin the younger boy was holding, "Did you really fall on a wooden beam?"

"Yes…would I ever lie to you, Kadar?"

The little boy looked at his older brother and Malik grinned at him before they both replied with a 'yes'. "I just did not think that falling injuries included rope burns." He looked at the angry marks on Altaïr's wrists pointedly causing Altaïr to blush and take particular interest in another splinter. Kadar looked at Malik again and smiled, "That book with all the people laying on top of each other says that, 'silk is best for bindings'…next time you and Altaïr go skip training to play Templers and Assassins, may I go too?"

000

Poor Kadar…his innocent little mind!