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Trust	By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 4513 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or its characters. I do not make any money by publishing this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: Written for the LJ Kinkmeme and not yet betaed! Also English is not my native-tongue so there are mistakes. Let me know what you liked and disliked so I can work with that.

Paring: Altair/Malik

Part 1 of 3

The rope was tight around his wrist, eating its way into his skin leaving only raw flesh. The muscles in his arm have started to hurt a long time ago when it was bent behind his back, his hand shoved between his shoulderblades, the tight rope around his neck connected with the one securing the limb behind his back. He'd learned the more he struggled the more he would cut off his air circulation so he tried keeping his hand as high as possible for only to breath a little bit more. His knees hurt from where he was forced to the ground, kneeling in front of his master, his eyes focused on the dirty floor before him as he had been ordered. His gaze was nothing but an angry glare and his cheek still stung from the slap his disobedience had earned him earlier. Naked as the day he was born sweat was already glistening on the tanned skin of his chest. He heard the rustling of clothes and only seconds later a pair of filthy boots filled his field of view as the man knelt on one knee in front of him.

"I don't think you're in any position to talk back the way you just did, don't you think?" The husky voice washed over his body and he couldn't help but shudder. He felt fingertips pressing against his chin forcing it upwards so he could meet his eyes and as soon as his brown orbs found those of him he felt like he could lose himself in the vortex of gold. Those fingers found their way tight around his jaw keeping it in a merciless strong hold.

Malik kept silence.

A lazily, cruel smile tugged at the corner of the lips hovering just inches above his face and he felt the need to lean closer, just a little more, to run his tongue across them but he kept still. Another hand pushed against his right shoulder forcing him to sit on his heels before it withdraw again only for his fingers to brush gently over his chest. The grip on his jaw never loosened and he pressed his lips together as those fingers found a nipple, squeezing and twisting hard.

"And here I thought I'd need to gag you again. You impress me." A low chuckle escaped Altair's lips and the squeezing stopped. He draw back immediately to rose again taking slow steps out of Malik's sight. "Although that foul mouth of yours disappoints me."

And another slap met his cheek. The force would have been strong enough to make him tumble had he not been sitting on his heels. He tasted the iron of blood in his mouth and spat out.

"Fuck you", Malik hissed quietly, but not quiet enough for Altair not to hear. He was grabbed by his hair his head pulled up as Altair stood behind him, the angry flare in his eyes meeting Malik's.

"I don't think I understood you correctly. Care to repeat yourself?", he asked and his voice was a very soft whisper.

Malik just stared not even thinking of answering Altair's request. Two could play this game and hell, he liked to provoke him, to drive Altair further still. He heard him taking another step closer so Malik's head rested against the other's crotch – through the thin fabric of his trousers he could feel Altair's already erect cock.

A sudden push against his shoulders sent him face first onto the floor. Since his arm was securely tied behind his back there was no way of breaking the fall. The impact drew the air out of his lungs and before he could manage any attempt to get back up again he felt one of his boots pressing against his neck keeping him in place.

"No, I think I like seeing you down there." He heard those words from above and behind him and this new position made Malik very aware of his rock hard dick pressing against his stomach.

After all this was what he wanted.

He couldn't remember anymore when or how it had started. As teens they had often explored each other bodies, always fearing to get caught for men actions like these were forbidden and would be punished with death. It was back then, when they had been friends not driven apart by competitiveness and Altair's arrogance and at some times Malik would had thought that they had shared more than a friendship. But when they grew older they had also slowly drifted apart.

Malik liked to believe that ever since he and Altair had started to live the life of an assassin each of them had been very lonely. Not to give into the burning craving of being with the one you trusted most, maybe even had loved, was a battle he couldn't fight any longer.

Maybe it was one of those times after he'd lost his arm were they had one of their heated arguments that had led to a fight where they ended on the ground, both of them struggling to hold the upper hand and it had ended with him on his back, Altair sitting upon his hips, pinning his one remaining arm above his head noticing the tenting in Malik's pants. He'd glared angrily at Altair who reacted with one oh those smirks he wanted to punch right of off his face. Back then, Malik had figured since there was so much anger and hatred between them, angry and rough sex was the only way for them to be with each other. After all his brother and his arm were not the only things he'd lost in Solomon's Temple – he'd also lost Altair even though he had lost him long before that but had never wanted to accept that fact. Friendship held no place in the life of an assassin and neither did love. Simple as that.

But this, yelling at each other, fighting and rolling around the floor, it was both their ways of surrender. When Altair had noticed his stiffening cock his hands had found their way into his pants. He had laughed and taunted Malik for his body reactions not realizing how much more he'd turned the other one on. In the end they had both laid spent on the floor, their breathing hard and erratic after they had reached their climax. Since then their relationship had taken another turn.

After Solomon's Temple and the loss of his arm and brother, as the bloody and cruel reality of an assassin's life had caught up with them it had taken a long time for Malik to forgive Altair. But after each mission the fallen assassin had returned to him he'd always seen how much Altair had changed.

And now?

Now with the Order at the dawn of an new era everything had changed. Solomon's Temple was two years ago and Malik couldn't lie to himself anymore.

At first Malik would have thought that their rough way of fucking was just an excuse to not let the feelings in, to keep them under a layer of anger – but not anymore, not after all they've been through.

The truth was he fucking liked to be submissive, to be dominated by such a powerful creature as Altair. He loved it to fuck another man and to be fucked by one. He loved every single second of it and he wanted -needed-more. Needed more of anything that Altair could give to him but most of all he wanted to trust. This was it, wasn't it? It was all about trust – what could be greater than something like that? He, Malik, a former assassin and still member of the order, who killed many people and who only once got almost killed - who had always lived with the danger of getting betrayed, accepting missions that could well lead to his death - would trust another being to tie him up, to dominate him, to even control his breathing? This man that hold this power over him, he trusted with his life. And Malik couldn't think of another person he would trust more.

A sudden movement from behind him pulled Malik from his train of thoughts as hot, stinging pain spread from his back to every fiber of his body. He tried to turn his head to see what was going on behind his back, but Altair's boot hold him firmly in place still.

"Do I have your attention now?", he heard him asking, his voice low.

Again he felt the pain and this time he could move his head just a little to watch Altair standing above him a thick candle in one of his hands, dripping the hot wax over his body.

"I didn't give you permission to move, did I?" His tone was mocking.

The hand with the candle moved from his shoulders over his bound arm, down his back to his bottom, further down his legs till it reached the sensitive sole of his feet. He inhaled quietly as the pressure on his neck was gone but took another sharp breath in as the same boot found his left leg. He tried to keep still, anxiety and excitement rolling in waves through his body as he heard another rustle of fabric. Out of the corner of his eyes he could watch Altair crouching next to his left leg, Altair's left shin pressed into the back of Malik's knee keeping his leg in place.

One single finger brushed over the left sole of his foot and Malik couldn't help but twitching at the tickling sensation. Altair repeated the movement and soon added another finger. It kept getting harder and harder to hold still for Malik – he didn't want to move and not because his master had told him so but he didn't want to give Altair the satisfaction showing his suffering. As the other man dug his nails into the soft skin of his foot and pulled them all the way from his heel up to his toes Malik's breathing became heavier. As he added a third finger his leg started to twitch and he tried to pull away. He could hear the soft thud of the candle being set aside on the floor before Altair used his now unoccupied second hand to hold his leg down.

"Don't you like it?", he heard Altair asking, amusement swinging within his voice.

He felt Altair lifting his leg as his hand grabbed his foot to raise it off the floor. His fingers found the space between his toes and as much as he tried Malik couldn't hold the sounds any longer inside nor could he hold any longer still. He tried to pull his foot free from Altair's grip as soft laughter escaped his lips.

"St-op it", he breathed as he squirmed from side to side biting down on his lips to keep the laughter inside.

And to Malik's surprise it did stop. He watched Altair moving around him opening the door on the opposite side of the room which lead to the main bureau. He kept staring at the door as he tried to breath in and out very slowly to relax his body again. It did only take a few seconds for the other man to return one of his hands hiding something behind his back. A charismatic smile flashed over his lips as he looked down at Malik and he took back the same position from before, sitting behind him at the end of his legs. No, not the same. Malik tried to move his head more to his left as he was trying to see what Altair was doing.

"Spread your legs a little for me", he ordered, his tone cold and not anywhere near holding the warmth of the smile he had just given him. Slowly Malik did as he was told – his curiosity of what Altair was hiding was too big as to disobey.

He could see how Altair turned his back to him before he lowered himself to the floor and moved one of his legs over Malik's left one. In this new position Malik's leg was between the one's of Altair, keeping it secure and tight. His master sat just below his knee, his back facing Malik. One hand found his foot again and lifted it up so Malik had to bent his knee to follow the forced movement.

"I heard your wish, Malik. But I think you'll soon wish you wouldn't have asked me to stop. Next time," Altair turned his head for he knew Malik was watching him and he met his eyes, "try to specify your wishes."

With the last word spoken Malik's eyes went wide as he watched the feather dancing between Altair's fingers. He watched him turning it around, the quill pointing to his bare foot now. Before Malik could react in any way the quill found its target. It was dragged over his foot, over and over again, sometimes found its way between his toes before it went down to his heel and up to his toes again. But this time, this time Malik couldn't be quiet, couldn't hold still. This was pure torture, something he'd never experienced before, something Altair never had done before to him. The sensation he felt was new the rough material of the quill hurting and tickling all at the same time, its touch sending waves of agony and pleasure through his body.

He was trapped, helpless and at Altair's mercy. The tickling was absolutely tormenting for him and in fact he had been hating it ever since he was a child. For Altair to use it now against him in an attempt of sexual power was... literally breathtaking.

His upper body buckled off the ground, his right leg trying to kick into Altair's side as he fought like a fish on the land for air and the more he moved the tighter the rope around his neck got. Soon it became very hard to breath, his laughter went silent as he didn't have the air for it anymore.

It suddenly stopped and his body went immediately limp.

Altair didn't move and kept sitting on his leg, his head tilted to one side as he watched with amusement Malik's struggle for breath.

The tips of his fingers brushed over his bare sole and as soon as they touched his flesh he tried to pull away, a quiet laughter erupting from his throat. Altair's fingers stopped. "Quite sensitive, aren't you now?"

Malik's left side of his face found the floor and he was glad for the coolness that was pressing now against his skin. He closed his eyes still trying to even his breathing, to make the dancing black spots in front of his eyes disappear. He felt tired and absolutely at Altair's mercy. He couldn't move any longer, his muscles too tired from the spasms which were caused by the tickling.

He felt Altair shifting before something hot, very hot, splashed onto the sole of his foot.

He had forgotten the candle.

The wax burned on his skin and it felt like a thousand needles pressing into the soft flesh at once – not ever before had hot wax felt like this on his body. Who would've thought that Altair could still think of something new after they had tried so many things together?

But his body was too tired, he couldn't move and just had to endure the procedure. The wax was poured unforgivable onto his foot until it was completely covered with it and when it was, Malik dared to open his eyes again.

The weight on his leg changed as Altair got up again.

He watched a pair of boots getting closer before they stopped right next to his head. Altair knelt down as he grabbed Malik's hair to lift his head off the ground. "You know what Malik?", he whispered into his ear, his hot breath crawling over his skin. He yanked painfully at his hair as he didn't give him an answer.

"W-what?", he forced out, still short of breath.

"We have to remove that wax from your foot again..."

"No!" Before Malik could have stopped it it came out of his mouth. Not again – at least not so soon.

"... and from the rest of your body. I don't like my lover to be dirty." Altair let go of his hair. "Get up."

For a moment Malik just stared at him as Altair got up and showed him his back one of his hands sitting on his hip, his foot tapping in annoyance on the ground.

Slowly, very slowly he rose. He pulled his legs beneath his body before he could force his weight on his knees and from there stood on both his feet although he tried to put more of his weight onto his right unharmed foot. Trembling, he kept himself up straight.

Altair turned around and eyed him. He examined him from head to toe and Malik watched how his eyes lingered on his waist and on his still very hard, very pre-cum leaking cock.

He grinned at him. "Aren't you beautiful right now", he told him and Malik had to close his eyes as desire threatened to burn him alive. He felt Altair moving until he could feel the man's breath upon his face. Altair moved against him, his hips touching his and one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking as gently as if his touch was that of a ghost. Malik leaned into him seeking more of the small friction.

Altair took him into an one-armed embrace, his hand spread flat against his back right beneath his bound arm while the other continued with its movement.

"Is this what you want?", he whispered into Malik's ear and Malik felt goosebumps rising over his arm. His tongue felt thick with lust as he slowly parted his lips, wetting them and he only dared to nod, not trusting his own voice.

The hand on his back moved and the impact of Altair's flat hand on his buttocks forced him more into the embrace. A soft gasp crawled its way out of his throat and he leaned his forehead onto Altair's shoulder. The hand around his cock tightened its grip as Altair slowly started to jerk him off. Again Altair slapped his backside and a third and a fourth time before he drew his nails over the reddening skin, kneading it and hitting him again and again.

The spanking became stronger with each strike and even if Malik had tried to he couldn't keep up and count them but soon found himself moaning into Altair's shoulder, pushing himself deeper into the hand that was playing his cock in such a wonderful way. The skin of his ass felt hot and every now and then, Altair would stop to pinch or scratch him before he continued with his spanking.

A tight, hot knot started to build inside his lower stomach and Malik knew he was close, so very close to come.

But as his breathing started to get erratic and his legs threatened to give away something changed. Altair leaned closer, brushing his lips over Malik's temple and down to his jar before his tongue moved over his throat to his ear and back again, leaving a wet trail behind all the while never stopping with the spanking. The hits were forceful now, pushing Malik more into Altair's body with every hit and he was sure they didn't only hurt him but also Altair's hand. The sound of Altair's flat palm meeting the skin of Malik's backside over and over again echoed loudly within the small room and Malik cried out softly, groaning with each impact.

His legs were trembling now and he wished his arm wasn't bound behind his back because he needed to hold on to something desperately. He felt dizzy, his breathing far to shallow for his own liking as the blood whooshed loudly in his own ears.

One last hard slap was given before Altair stopped and both of his arms encircled Malik.

"Should I stop Malik?", Altair whispered, and Malik thought he could have come just then and there by the way how Altair spoke his name, how each letter rolled over his tongue.

His backside stung terribly but he shook his head. "No", he croaked, surprised that he was able to form the word at all. Altair stepped away and it took all of Malik's willpower to not fall over.

"Open your eyes", he was told and Malik slowly did his gaze unfocused as he had the feeling of just waking up. Altair stood in front of him the look on his face almost gentle.

His eyes scanned Altair's body. He was fully clothed except for his white robes and it made Malik all the way more aware of who was in charge right now. He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. Through the fabric of Altair's pants Malik could clearly see his arousal. His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat and Malik wanted nothing more than to ran his hands over those muscled arms.

"Tell me how you feel."

Malik blinked, looking dumbfounded at Altair.

"Do I need to repeat myself?", Altair asked as he arched one elegant eyebrow and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Malik shook his head not really sure if he understood correctly. There was a ringing in his ears and the loud flow of his blood made it difficult for him to listen – everything felt out of place.

He opened his mouth, "I-" and shook his head again, before his eyes focused on Altair, his pupils dilated.

"Fine", he finally manged to say and knew it was the wrong answer as Altair shook his head and sighed. He watched him taking a small step forward but didn't see the hand coming that hit his ear, making him stumble. The ringing in his head got louder as his vision became blurred.

Altair took his former position back and stood in front of Malik. "How do you feel?", he asked again and Malik tried to think but it was hard to focus. His cock was aching for some attention, his backside hurt as it was on fire and the slap Altair had just given him added to the dizziness he felt.

He licked his lips as he took a deep breath. "My foot – still hurts and... it tingles a little."

Altair took one step forward and Malik looked up, his chest almost touching Altair's. His fingers started to tingle too.

"My... I- want to... I want." Why was it so hard to form the words he wanted to say?

Altair lifted one hand and pushed it flat against his chest.

"What do you want?" Altair's fingers traced invisible lines over his chest down to his ribs. He squirmed as those fingers found a ticklish spot.

What he wanted? He repeated the words in his head thinking hard as everything else started to get swallowed by fog.

In the past, Altair had done many things to him. He'd hit him, spanked him, tied him in every position he could think of and one time he had tied a small leather string around the base of his cock and kept him from coming for hours. Altair liked to test him, always wanted to see how far he could go and Malik was just as curious. Truth was he was addicted to Altair's touch, to the feeling of his hands on his body, addicted to the attention he got from him.

"Hurt me", he whispered and wasn't sure if he really just said that. He felt his dick throbbing with need as waves of heat rushed through his body. Malik stared sideways before his eyes found Altair's gaze again and he stared back at him. "Hurt me", he repeated his voice cracking and it almost sounded desperately.

Altair smiled, his fingers squeezing one of his nipples and Malik took a sharp breath of air.

"Please", he heard himself begging and wondered what was different this time for him to start to beg so early in their game.

Altair stood closer and his lips gently brushed over his before they crushed together. Teeth against teeth and Malik opened his mouth eagerly as his tongue invaded him, tracing the line of his lips before exploring. It was a sloppy, wet and heated kiss that left both of them panting.

Altair ran his hands over his shoulders down his back and up again until one of his hands found the one of Malik's and they encircled their fingers as good as possible. Malik's legs started to move as Altair pressed against him, walking them both backwards until he stumbled over cushions on the floor.

"Turn around", Altar whispered between small kisses and Malik did. "On your knees please."

He let himself fall softly until he hit the cushions and the thin sleeping mat on the floor. He heard a soft thud as Altair knelt behind him. The sound of a knife slipping out of its pocket caught his attention and seconds later he felt the cold steel pressing against his ribs.

"If I were you I would hold still", Altair whispered into his ear as one hand took a hold of his balls cupping them gently while the other pulled the knife from his ribs. With the tip of the blade he felt Altair remove the dried wax on his back and thighs. Malik hissed when not only the wax but also some of his body hair was removed. The blade danced over his heated skin and with every move that Altair made the grip on his balls got tighter. Malik groaned as Altair bent to remove the wax on his foot and tensed but relaxed soon as he realized that Altair didn't plan to tickle him more. He let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding and felt Altair's hand tightening some more. The pressure around his balls increased as the pain slowly found its way into his lust-fogged brain. There was a battle going on between the crushing pain that grew with every second and the sheer desire he felt being hold like that by Altair. He was panting now and sweat was dropping down his temple.

"Too much for you?", Altair asked and Malik could almost hear the grin within his voice. He leaned a little bit forward pressing him further into Altair's grip. It was enough of an answer. Altair's fingers grew tight and this time Malik couldn't stop himself but yelp at the sudden increase of the pressure. He was sure if Altair would keep up with it there would be bruising tomorrow morning.

With a clatter the knife fell to the ground. Altair scratched his nails over his ribcage leaving red marks on their way down to his stomach. Malik whimpered as Altair drew his nails over his body one more time while at the same time his hand crushed his balls in an almost merciless way.

"Fuck!", he grunted, biting down on his lips, panting and sweating as he felt as if he would lose consciousness by the hot pain that exploded in a white light behind his eyes as he closed them. He felt his cheeks wet and suddenly realized that he was crying.

Altair let his balls go and instead his hand found his neglected member and started to stroke softly, his thumb playing with the tip.

Malik almost thought that it was too much. The pain that was fading only slowly and the pleasure he felt rising from Altair's actions were mixing together, melting into each other that he wasn't sure anymore what to feel and what it was he felt. What he knew was that he wanted it, that he needed it. He was close, very close and he started to moan uncontrollably, rocking his hips forward to seek more of the forbidden touch. His head rolled back and found support on one of Altair's shoulders. His fingers clenched with the rhythm of Altair stroking him, his mouth hung shamelessly open and almost everything around him was forgotten. The blood rushed through his body, his feet and hand started to tingle and he felt so much - all the things all together; pain, lust, humiliation, trust, comfort, pleasure, desire, need, vulnerability, want – if this continued he would fall into the abyss of total bliss.

Altair stopped and Malik's eyes snapped open.

"No. Not yet", Altair breathed, tickling the skin next to his ear and his voice was husky. "Not yet", he repeated and Malik could have screamed from frustration.

"Turn around and lay on your back."

It took a moment for the words to find their way into Malik's brain and for him to understand them. He was at the edge of orgasm and his mind was too far gone for him to obey immediately. Slowly, he let himself down until his side would touch the thin mattress and he rolled around, his bound hand and wrist digging into his back making it painful for him to lie like that. He looked up at Altair and found his eyes, licking his own lips and slightly parting his legs as to invite the other man.

"Slut", Altair grinned before he straddled Malik's lap. He leaned over him, his arm outstretched as his hand felt for something on the floor. He found what he was looking for holding the knife up for Malik to see.

"I like those marks on you", he told him the tip of the blade hovering over his skin as it followed the red marks his nails had created earlier. Malik's eyes never left the blade, his breathing just a little bit faster as he felt curious and a little bit of fear of what Altair might have planned for him.

"It's not enough." And the blade pressed down into his ribs – not deep enough to leave a scar, but deep enough to draw droplets of blood.

Malik hissed. It wasn't really painful but it felt uncomfortable and stung a little. He closed his eyes as Altair withdraw the blade just to cut the skin on his hip.

"You're mine Malik", Altair whispered as he bent over his body, his lips pressing against his neck as the blade cut into his body on various places over and over again. His weight shifted and Malik felt the sharp metal tore through the skin on his right shoulder before it continued to his left one and suddenly the world turned.

The cushions he lay upon faded as did the warmth of the room. He couldn't feel his body nor Altair sitting on his hips anymore as his mind started to float into an uneasy fog of memories. In the distance he could hear someone screaming and the agony that swung with it was heartbreaking. He felt hands pressing down onto his body while someone was pressing a damp cloth over his mouth and nose. He opened his eyes and was surprised to look into the face of Al Mualim.

"Hush my child", he heard the voice of the grand master invading his ears, the words wrapping around him like a blanket.

"All will be over soon. Hold him down." And then he felt it. The hands on his left shoulder and injured arm, he heard the tearing of his clothes as they cut through his ruined robes. A string of leather was tied around his arm and he turned his head just to watch as one of the men hold up a knife. The blade found its way into his arm breaking skin and muscles and he screamed and screamed and screamed as he tried to pull away to stop the madness but the hands just wouldn't let him. His legs and shoulders were hold in place by iron grips as the blade cut deeper into his arm forcing its way through his flesh. After what felt like hours the man stopped and Malik's screams turned into sobs. "Let me go", he whispered as he didn't have any more of his strength left. He couldn't fight anymore and all he wanted to do was to sleep now.

"All will be over soon.", spoke Al Mualim's voice again and Malik turned his head to watch the master leave. He heard the sound of metal next to his left ear his head spinning around to watch just in time how the saw gnawed its way into his broken arm. He could hear the breaking of the bone right next to his screams. He waited for unconsciousness but it wouldn't come. It just wouldn't come...

"Safety and peace, safety and peace, safety and peace!" Malik screamed the words over and over again his body tossing as tears run down his cheeks and it wouldn't stop. He felt a slap to his right cheek and then another one to his left. His eyes snapped open and he saw Altair bent over him, the bloody blade in his hand, his eyes wide in fear. Malik's eyes focused upon the blade and he pressed his heels into the floor trying to get as far away as possible from Altair as panic was rising within him with every second.

"Malik, stop!" Altair's voice rang through his ears and the sharp command made him halt in his movements. Panting, crying, almost hyperventilating Malik kept still as he stared up at Altair, fear written all over his face.

Altair reached for him with one hand but draw it back as he watched Malik flinch. His outstretched arm sunk back to his side as he sat upon his heels, his eyes roaming over Malik's body to look for any serious injury that could have caused the sudden flash of panic.

"What is wrong boy?", he asked in a gentle voice as if he would talk to a child that had just woken up from a nightmare.

Malik's eyes scanned the room as if he had to make sure that this was real and not the memories he had just witnessed inside his mind. Then they found Altair the soft light of the candle bathing his skin in a warm golden glow.

Malik moved his mouth, opened and closed it again as if he wanted to say something but he couldn't find the words, couldn't find his voice to form them either. Altair moved closer again and this time Malik just watched him as the other man used his body as a blanket and finally cradled Malik in his arms. One of his hands stroke his back in a soothing manner while the other used the blade to cut the rope that was tied around Malik's neck and arm. As soon as the other one was free Altair massaged the tortured muscles to ease the pain as the blood flow back into it.

They just lay there for a couple of minutes, Malik still spilling tears quietly but the longer Altair waited the more the breathing of him would settle and became less erratic. He turned onto his back and took Malik with him so he could rest his head on Altair's shoulder. Gentle fingers brushed through his hair as his lips found the corner of Malik's mouth.

"Malik?" Altair finally asked and broke the silence that had settled around them in a comfortable way.

"Yes?", Malik asked and his voice sounded rough and raw.

"Do you want to tell me?"
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