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Moves	By : Darbracken Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 1832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Altair, Ezio or Assassins Creed. I have not and will not make any profit from this fic.

Chapter List
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I just want to thank everyone who's commented on my stories thus far, thanks guys, I really love feedback and your kind words. Unfortunately this probably will be my last drabble for a bit. I screwed up on the location and the references to 'Moves like Jagger' are very subtle so you'd probably have to listen to it at the same time to even get what I was hinting at. Anyway as a consequence it wasn't what my partner was looking for which has kind of put me off writing for a bit (along with general mehness). I found this one quite a challenge to write in the first place. I might put up the start of an original story I'm writing to see what people think.. anyway without further ado..
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Droplets of perspiration dewed olive flesh, teeth grazing a soft lip as sinew contorted. As though they were disconnected his torso and abdomen twisted at odds with one another, jostling the body that shared the bed. A low groan emitted as consciousness stirred in the slumbering frame, the drag of hips cradling the most awakened parts of his anatomy to the sheets. “Ezio. Ezio… Ezio.” Rich tones became the backdrop of the surreal swirl of colouration and hands. Eagerly his name was called out by the man clad in ivory that opened and speared his body so demandingly. Thrusting in him over and over again until his vision became a swirl of luminance and he could feel his climax about to wash over him. So close…
“Ezio!” A huge breath rushed in, freezing his lungs with its chill, chest heaving with a startled cough as he jerked up violently. Eyes struggled to focus as the room lurched, soft feminine hands coming to grasp his cheeks. “Poor tesoro, you dream so violently again. Tell me, what can I do to ease you?” Disorientated Ezio pushed the hands away and sat, slowly reality building piece by piece before his eyes. “Is it your family?” Dark eyes watched him from the beautiful face but he could find only disgust for the woman he had lain with, or perhaps disgust for his own body reacting so violently to dreams of a man he had never met.
Pushing off the bed he swiftly gathered his clothing, pulling on his cloak without a backwards glance. “Ciao bella, I’ll return soon.” With only those words he disappeared through the window, pulling himself up onto the roof smoothly so he would not be spotted leaving her room. In the cool of the eve he slipped unnoticed across the roof tops towards his current accommodation, shaken by the vivid nature of his dream, still able to feel the man’s hands crawling across his tanned flesh, extracting information from him.
Legend told of a remarkable assassin, one whom had no equal. Ever since Ezio had stumbled across the name Altaïr he had been having the unwelcome visions. It always began in the same innocuous manner, in a wide street in Roma with the populous milling around him as he strode confidently forwards. He saw him though; he could always find him no matter where he went, no matter how fast he ran. Strong hands would grasp him and pull him into a murky alleyway, slam him up against a wall and press a blade to his throat.
Then he would touch, stroke and cajole his resistant body until Ezio could control himself no longer. When he lashed out he would be disarmed as though taking a toy from a kitten. Whoever this man was he was skilled beyond parallel, even competent assassins couldn’t defeat Ezio so flawlessly. The thought aroused and terrified him simultaneously, that he could be dominated and controlled so easily by the man clad in ivory robes. In the darkest recess of his mind though he wanted it, for his ego to be laid bare, for his body to be consumed by this man, to be made to forget.
Revenge burnt through his flesh into his very soul, polluting it with its corruption and wrath. The only thing that mattered to him now was avenging his family, it consumed his every waking moment, it fuelled and paralysed him. Digits curled into a fist, the hidden blade slickly sliding from its mechanism as he thrust forwards at some unseen enemy, the lack of impact leaving him feeling hollow and unfulfilled. The breeze would not fight back but that man would he knew, that man would meet him blow for blow until he could fight no more. Then he would extract his repayment from his body, it always felt so right.
As he swung into his room he landed quietly, quickly checking the perimeter before he shut the windows tight. Material flew, hands eagerly stripping it from his frame, finally yielding to the overwhelming urge that captured him. There was no longer any resistance left in him, desire outweighed his convictions. Palming his roused length he released a faint hiss, unable to keep the man from swarming into the fore of his thoughts. “I’ll show you then.” Somehow saying the words to the quiet room made his presence more palpable, more real, rushing in to meet Ezio.
Splaying on the thin sheets he opened his thighs, desperate for his dreamed aggressor to appear and burn the hatred from him with the sweet release of his body. When he didn’t wantonly he stroked himself, teasing and playing with his length slowly. Flattening his calloused palm he ran it from root to tip, arching up wildly from the bed to indulge in his secret with this man. Even if it made no sense this man overwhelmed him, drove him towards insanity, though he would never admit it to another.
Strokes became rough and haphazard, thighs trembling violently as he growled darkly, feeling the rising tempo of climax starting in his belly but building too slowly, as though it were torturing him. Even as hands moved faster, friction creating an edge of discomfort to his pleasure, climax was cruelly denied. As though finally understanding vocal chords gave voice to his need, groaning quietly to the still room. As heat burst forth onto his hand he called out to his assailant, tugging on whatever string of fate that had brought them together, even if it was only in dreams. “Altaïr.”
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