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Eaglet (3 - 11) - Masyaf

Desmond assumed that Altaïr had first seen him when he had fallen from the balcony but he would be wrong.

Altaïr had actually seen him before that, when he was still living in Paradise with the other young children. Umar and Altaïr’s quarters had a clear view of the gardens of Paradise after all and Altaïr had seen the bright gold being carried inside on a cold winter night. 

For as long as Altaïr could remember, he had always been able to use the Eagle Vision. He had grown up knowing that his father was the brightest blue in all of Masyaf.

But Desmond had been the only one to ever glow gold in his eyes back then, brighter than everybody else.

Altaïr liked to watch the golden glow when he was a small child, noticing how so many whites and grays would flock around it yet never had any of them been able to dim the golden glow.

The day the golden glow was no longer in Paradise, Altaïr had panicked, thinking that something bad had happened to it.

So he told his father about it. 

Umar had understood him even though Altaïr’s panic made it harder for him to enunciate his words. He explained that the child Altaïr knew as a golden form had most probably been taken by their parents already.

And perhaps that child had already left Masyaf.

It would be two more years before Altaïr would finally come face to face with Desmond.

Altaïr could still remember it so clearly. Seeing Desmond stick his head out between the posts of the balcony, Altaïr was unable to look away even when his father told him to focus. All he could think about was how much he wanted Desmond to look at him. 

To see him.

Just like Altaïr had seen him.

His father once told him a story of two people with their fates forever intertwined, tied together by a red thread. 

Altaïr didn’t pay it that much attention.

Until he saw Desmond’s eyes glow gold.

Altaïr didn’t know what propelled him to run a few seconds before Desmond even started to fall. 

Had he simply wanted to run towards him?

Or had he instinctively known that Desmond was going to fall?

Or maybe… He had wanted Desmond to fall into his arms?

Desmond would say that he saw Altaïr run after he had started to fall but Altaïr knew he ran even before that. It was like his body moved on its own. 

That had always been the case whenever it concerned Desmond.

Altaïr wasn’t usually an impulsive person. He had his moments of impatience that would lead him to act without thinking about it too much, sure, but it was different with Desmond. 

Altaïr didn’t need to think about things too hard.

It had started early on, after they met. Altaïr would find himself searching for Desmond even before he had any idea of why he was looking for the younger boy in the first place. 

Altaïr noticed things about Desmond more easily than he did with other people.

He knew Desmond liked sweet things like sweetbreads and fruits.

He knew Desmond would pick books written in other languages but he didn’t necessarily enjoy them.

He knew that Desmond would always accept anything given to him even if he didn’t need or want the item they have given.

And he also knew that Desmond kept everyone at a distance.

Altaïr never understood why but he did know that he and Desmond’s family were the only people he tried to be close to. Yet, the older they became, the more guarded Desmond became. 

He never pushed Altaïr or his family away but Altaïr knew that Desmond also kept them at arm’s length. There was always this distance between them and Desmond that seemed unpassable.

It was what made Altaïr curious about him in the first place. 

Desmond glowed gold in Altaïr’s eyes and his father told him that gold meant he was important to Altaïr.

When he was younger, he assumed it meant that Desmond was tied to Altaïr by that red string of fate his father once told him about.

As he grew older, Altaïr realized he wanted their fates to be intertwined by that supposed thread.

When he accepted what kind of man he truly was, Altaïr admitted to himself that he was willing to tie that string himself if that was what it took to keep Desmond by his side forever.

Fledging (17) - Masyaf

Altaïr didn’t know when his feelings for Desmond grew to be love.

That wasn’t exactly right.

Altaïr had always loved Desmond.

That was a fact.

But his love for Desmond had started out as something of a mix of a love for one’s friend and for one’s family.

When his father died, he clung to Desmond’s warmth and his heartbeat to keep himself from drowning in grief and anger. Listening to Desmond’s heartbeat reminded Altaïr that he wasn’t alone, that Desmond was still here with him. 

His heartbeat continued to be a source of comfort for Altaïr, being able to soothe him no matter how tumultuous his thoughts would become. 

Al Mualim had warned him that it was dangerous to be that close to someone and, normally, Altaïr would have listened to him. His father had told him to listen to everything Al Mualim tells him after all.

But Al Mualim’s words…

No.

Everyone’s words fell out of his mind whenever he heard Desmond’s voice, whenever he felt Desmond’s soft hand on his skin.

Whenever he saw Desmond’s lips as he talked…

Altaïr had always thought Desmond was cute. A bit short and maybe just a bit too thin but his face was adorable, especially when he smiled or when he made an expression that Altaïr assumed meant he was trying to glare at someone but it honestly looked like he was pouting instead.

But he would always remember the day he realized that he found Desmond attractive.  

He was seventeen by then and Desmond was just fourteen. Altaïr was still deluding himself into thinking he only cared for Desmond like one would care for a brother, no matter what Abbas would say or the judgmental silent stares Malik would give him.

A traveling merchant tried to sell his wares in Masyaf that day and he had been selling a lot of pomegranates. Altaïr had heard of it and simply mentioned it to Desmond when they were eating lunch because he remembered how Desmond had liked the taste of pomegranates when Altaïr had given him half of the pomegranates his father had brought back when they were children.

He assumed that Desmond loved them since it became normal for the Al-Sayf home to have pomegranates.

It would be years later before he found out that Desmond made the same mistake Altaïr made and had assumed Altaïr loved pomegranates.

That the only reason why pomegranates were even usually in their home was because Desmond got them for Altaïr.

That evening, Desmond admitted that he bought the merchant’s entire stock of pomegranates much to everyone’s surprise (and Altaïr heard that Faheem had been scolded by the brother in charge of Masyaf’s finances because of Desmond’s large purchase) and he had mushed them all up before straining it to make what he liked to call ‘juice’ which was a strange but delicious liquid. It was like drinking pomegranates itself and Altaïr had enjoyed it but…

Well…

His focus had been entirely taken from the strange delicious liquid by the slight red tint on Desmond’s lips. 

It was barely noticeable yet Altaïr had been unable to look away. 

That night, Altaïr couldn’t sleep, plagued by thoughts of how Desmond’s lips would feel against his fingers, against his own lips.

Against his skin…

That night, Altaïr came from the thoughts of Desmond’s lips.

And as he stared at his dirty hand, slightly trembling and breathing heavily…

He realized that he was attracted to Desmond.

A normal person would have probably taken some time freaking out after realizing that they were attracted to their childhood friend.

A normal person would have probably spent some time wondering if what they felt was real or perhaps they were just confused or whatever words the adults would tell them.

Altaïr did none of that.

The next morning, Altaïr went to the best adult he knew that wouldn’t spare his feelings and tell him the truth.

It… surprisingly went well, all things considered.

“I feel like I should cut off your dick for telling me this but, then again, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later,” Faheem admitted with a tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he continued to sit while Altaïr continued to stand on the other side of his desk.

“You knew I would mastu-”

“Stop. I meant that you’d develop feelings for my son and I suppose that too.” Faheem raised his hand as he quickly cut off Altaïr’s blunt question before commenting, “Your candor is much appreciated, Altaïr, but you really need to learn how to speak more… nicely.”

“I will… work on it?”Altaïr said, unsure of how he would even do such a thing, before continuing with the actual topic, “So what do you think?”

“Of what?” Faheem asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“Of my feelings for Desmond.” Altaïr looked at the desk between them as he asked quietly, “Do you think… I’m simply confused?”

Faheem hummed and rubbed his chin as he thought of how to reply to that. He placed his hand on top of the desk and stared at Altaïr as he said, “To be completely honest with you, Altaïr, I don’t know. Your feelings are your own. No one has any right to tell you if they are real or not but yourself.”

“What I can give you is perhaps words that you might find useful.” Faheem shrugged as he added, “Or not.”

“Tell me,” Altaïr said as he raised his head to stare at Faheem.

Faheem stared at Altaïr as he said, “It is true that it’s easy to misinterpret our own feelings, especially at your age. What may seem like love to you now may actually be simply lust or just a fleeting fancy. There’s also the fact that the two of you are so close that the brotherly love you feel for him might simply be clouded by what your body desires.”

“On the other hand…” Faheem grimaced as he continued, “Lusting for… him… might simply be a natural evolution of your real feelings for him.”

Faheem sighed once more before continuing, “That’s it. That’s all I can give you.”

Altaïr thought about it for a moment before saying, “That’s useless. You gave possible explanations without telling me which of them applies to my current situation.”

“I know.” Faheem blandly said before explaining in a gentler tone, “The truth is, Altaïr, there is no one who can tell you what you feel. No one has a right to. You have to find that out yourself.”

Faheem was quiet for a moment before suggesting, “Or you can try the services of the flowers in Paradise and find out if you simply wish for the warmth of another person’s body?”

The disgust on Altaïr’s face was a bit funny and terribly offensive to the beautiful women in Paradise, “I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because Desmond…” Altaïr stopped and Faheem raised an eyebrow as the young teenager thought about what he was about to say. He looked down at the desk as he said, “The idea of touching another person’s body in that way feels… wrong. Like I’m betraying Desmond in some way.”

Faheem sighed once more, “As a man, I should probably tell you that you’re missing out on things or that there is nothing to be ashamed about in finding comforts in others but, as the father of the boy we’re talking about, it does bring me joy to know that you love my son that much.”

Seeing Altaïr’s eyes trained to his face, Faheem said, “You have the time to think about this, Altaïr. Think and reflect. Or just let time decide for you. Nothing has to change between the two of you unless you want it to.”

“I suppose… that’s what I’ll do,” Altaïr said with a slight frown on his face.

“Good. Now, since we’re talking about it, anyway…”

Altaïr watched as Faheem took off his scabbard, placing his sword on the desk. He stood and began to place each throwing knife he had on him onto the desk, placing them neatly and in a perfect line.

“I think we should have a short talk about what will happen if you do anything that my son did not consent to,” Faheem said with a smile that actually made Altaïr fear for his life.

Altaïr did nothing. 

Or, to be more accurate, he simply continued to act the way he had always acted. Nothing changed between him and Desmond and he had been fine with that.

The feelings he had for Desmond never went away and Altaïr found himself nurturing them. During the day, he found ways to touch Desmond or to be near him in any way. During the night and whenever he was out of Masyaf, he indulged in the hazy thoughts his mind would conjure. They were never enough to satisfy the heat inside him but Altaïr forced himself to think that they would be enough.

Abbas knew of the carnal desire he carried for Desmond. It was hard to hide it from him considering how many missions they had together. 

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Abbas asked once while they were lying on cots provided by the Rafiq of Damascus. Abbas had heard him whisper Desmond’s name enough times that he had enough Altaïr supposed, “Or you could just pin him to the ground and have your way with him.”

At that thought, Altaïr couldn’t help but glare at Abbas, making Abbas shrug as he said, “I heard some like that.”

“Desmond deserves better than to be taken like a beast,” Altaïr growled and turned to glare at the ceiling.

“So why don’t you give him what he deserves, then?” Abbas asked as he stared at him, “You already act like you love him and everyone in Masyaf knows about it. Why not just tell him?”

“Desmond is the most observant person I’ve ever known.” Altaïr proclaimed before turning to face Abbas as he asked, “And if he cannot see just how much I love him then what does that mean?”

Abbas was silent for a few seconds before turning to face the ceiling as he said, “I think you’re thinking too much but what do I know? I don’t have anyone who has loved me ever since I’ve been a child.”

“Abbas…” 

“I think you’re just a coward, Altaïr.” Abbas admitted as he continued to stare at the ceiling, “I think you’re afraid that Kadar would reject you and that’s what’s stopping you from confessing to him. You say you’re fine with the way things are because it’s a better alternative than losing him.”

“But, you know, Altaïr…” Abbas turned to face him as he said solemnly, “You’re just his friend right now. There’s nothing stopping anyone from taking him away from you anyway. When that happens… will you be fine by then?”

“No.” Altaïr replied honestly and closed his eyes, “I will never be fine.”

Fledging (19) - Damascus

Desmond rarely asked for anything. If he did, it would always be a simple favor and he wouldn’t mind if they say no. It was like Desmond didn’t really expect people to agree if he asked for anything big.

Even when he asked for Malik to look out for Altaïr (and, yes, Altaïr did know about it, hard not to when Malik’s first words to him when they started their training were “Just to be clear, I think you’re doing alright but my brother insisted I keep an eye on you but I’m not going to hold your hand.”), Altaïr knew Desmond asked Malik that one favor because he knew his brother would say yes. 

So when Desmond asked Altaïr to find him this candy crystal when he was sixteen years old, Altaïr’s heart soared. 

Desmond looked shy and a bit uncomfortable asking for this favor which he had never done before and he insisted that it was okay if Altaïr didn’t find one or wasn’t able to purchase it which he had also never done before.

Whenever Desmond asked for a favor, it was always something he knew that person could do.

But this was the very first favor that he was clearly unsure if the person he was asking could do.

And Altaïr knew he just had to get this candy crystal, no matter what.

This was his way of proving to Desmond that he could always count on him, even if it was with something he was unsure of.

The Rafiq in Damascus was a great help in that regard. He knew what Altaïr had been talking about and gave him directions on where to find a merchant who sells it. He warned Altaïr that it was expensive but Altaïr just shrugged it off.

Abbas had balked at the price. 

Then he almost fainted when Altaïr simply paid for it like it was nothing.

“It’s actually less expensive than I expected,” Altaïr commented as he carefully put the fabric housing the candy crystal inside the pouch that Desmond had given him for his initiation. 

“Less expens-! How-how do you even have that much money?! When did you- are you just carrying that much with you all the time?!” Abbas hissed as he stared at Altaïr with wide eyes.

“Of course not.” Altaïr frowned at Abbas, “That would be careless. I asked Aam Faheem if he knew anything about this candy crystal and he gave me an estimate of how much it would cost.”

“Did he also give you the money?!” Abbas asked in a high-pitched tone before looking all around them, worried that someone would be following them because of Altaïr’s purchase.

“That would defeat the purpose of this,” Altaïr replied with a roll of his eyes.

“The purpose?”

“Desmond asked me to find this for him.” Altaïr said with a small smile on his face as he placed his hand over the pouch where he had hidden the candy crystal, “This is something he wants from me. Something I can give him. To show him how I feel.”

“I think you’re overthinking again…” Abbas commented with a groan before asking, “So where did you get the money? Please tell me you didn’t steal it. I don’t think Al Mualim would approve of that.”

Altaïr chuckled and shook his head. His lips curved into a small grin and he leaned closer to Abbas to whisper, “I took it from the money my parents left me. Father told me it’s meant to pay for my future bride price.”

“You used the money you should be paying to your future wife’s family?!” Abbas hissed with wide eyes.

Altaïr shrugged as he said, “I’m not going to take any woman as my wife anyway. At least this way, the money would be used for something more important.”

Abbas’ jaw dropped.

He was unable to even say that it sounded like Altaïr was, technically, using the money for something very, very similar to its original purpose anyway.

From the small grin, Altaïr was giving him, Abbas knew that Altaïr knew that already.

Altaïr’s finger was sweet but he could taste a hint of the Al-Sayf family’s preferred tea as well when he sucked it. He still remembered how he felt his finger touch Desmond’s teeth briefly and he could even feel the softness of his lips as he slowly pulled away after giving him the rest of the candy crystal.

It was that taste and that memory that he chased after in the darkness of his room, stroking his cock as he sucked on his finger.

He came quickly that night and Altaïr couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed at all.

Instead, he realized with growing dread that he wanted more.

Fledgling (20) - Masyaf

“A hawk?” 

“Yes.” Altaïr nodded as he showed his sword to the curious blacksmith (and only blacksmith in Masyaf), “Something similar to this eagle pommel but perhaps smaller?”

“I remember making that one.” The blacksmith rubbed his chin, either not realizing the soot in his hands that he had now transferred to his face or not caring one bit, “Your mother had been the one to request it. Said it was in preparation for your initiation even though she was just starting to show back then. Had the brightest smile when I handed it to her.”

The blacksmith glanced at Altaïr before adding, “I’m sure she would be happy to know that you keep it with you all the time.”

Altaïr remained silent.

He found no reason to tell the blacksmith that he still used it even when Al Mualim had warned him of how dangerous it was to have an easily identifiable sword because he had heard from his father that the sword had been a gift his mother prepared a few days after she knew for certain that she was pregnant.

“Can you do it?” Altaïr asked instead.

The blacksmith stared at him for a moment before nodding, “Of course, I can. This is for Kadar, isn’t it? So the rumors are true? He’ll be initiated this year? Guess that would make him the youngest novice in the history of the Brotherhood.”

“He deserves it.” Altaïr nodded, unable to hide the proud little smile on his face. From the amused look that the blacksmith was giving him, it was clear that he had noticed Altaïr’s smile.

“I’m sure he does.” The blacksmith commented in a slightly softer tone before saying, “Since it’s for the village’s favorite, I’ll have it done before his ceremony.”

“But make sure that it’s of the highest quality as well.” Altaïr reminded him, making the blacksmith glare at him.

“Everything I make is of the highest quality.” The blacksmith stated with a glare before sighing and rubbing his temple as he said, “You sound just like one of those henpecked husbands trying to buy knives for their wives. Would you like to see my knives as well?”

“Altaïr’s buying a knife?”

Altaïr immediately turned around, keeping his face stoic even though his heart threatened to jump off his chest, “Desmond!”

Altaïr didn’t understand how Desmond could naturally be so silent. He had always been more silent than everybody since they had been young and Desmond was the only person to ever regularly sneak up to Altaïr.

Which the younger man knew, if his impish smile trained at Altaïr was any indication, “Hey, Altaïr. I was just on my way to buy ingredients for lunch. So…”

Desmond tilted his head to look behind Altaïr as he asked, “You’re buying a knife?”

“Well…” Altaïr glanced at the blacksmith who immediately grinned.

“Why, yes, he was!” The blacksmith took out a large wooden box and placed it on the counter. He opened the box and Desmond took a few steps forward to get a closer look at the different sizes and shapes, “This is my masterpiece! Remember when we talked about how you were thinking of how different sizes and shapes were better for certain ingredients? Well, I’ve been experimenting and this is what I came up with. Knives for meat, for vegetables, even for wood!”

“Why would you use a knife for wood?” Altaïr mumbled but his eyes widened when Desmond let out a small squealing sound.

“This! Yes! This is good for cutting bones!” Desmond gleefully said as he took one large knife that looked heavy enough to, yes, chop off someone’s bones with perhaps a few strikes (and one big chop if it was maybe an animal which Altaïr assumed was what Desmond actually meant).

Desmond turned to smile at Altaïr and asked curiously, “Are you planning to buy this for yourself, Altaïr?”

What the hell was he even going to do with them?

Altaïr’s cooking skills could be summarized in a single sentence.

‘Throw everything into a pot and call it soup.’ (They were, at least, edible though, no matter how much Abbas complained about the taste… or the lack of it)

“Altaïr was thinking of buying it for you, of course.” The blacksmith came to his rescue, “It seemed he heard about our conversation.”

An absolute lie.

While Altaïr knew that Desmond was on good terms with everybody in the village, any conversations Desmond had with anyone from the village (or anyone in Masyaf in general) came from Desmond himself who would sometimes tell them during meal time when he thought it was particularly interesting.

Altaïr had never heard about Desmond talking to the blacksmith about knives for cooking of all things.

“Really?” Desmond’s eyes seemed to grow brighter and Altaïr knew there was no way he could say no.

Not only because that would make Desmond continue to wonder why Altaïr was talking to the blacksmith in the first place but also because it was clear Desmond wanted this set of knives and there was no way in hell Altaïr wouldn’t give it to him.

“Of course.” Altaïr smiled softly as he placed his hand on Desmond’s cheek, caressing his skin with his thumb gently, “I’m sure you’ll be able to use them the best, Desmond.”

Desmond’s smile turned into a big grin as he said, “Well, considering what I know, I think you might be right. Oh! We should check the stalls in the market today, Altaïr. Let’s make something a bit fancy using these knives for dinner! I’ll tell father I won’t be able to help him after lunch so I'll be able to cook us something special tonight.”

Just… how long was Desmond planning to cook?

“I’ll be happy to help any way I can,” Altaïr replied immediately with a nod.

He was planning to train after lunch but helping Desmond was more important.

He was sure Abbas would understand.

“Thanks, Altaïr.” Desmond leaned on to his touch, making the heat inside Altaïr threaten to burn him but he managed to keep it on a tight leash as Desmond turned to face the blacksmith, “Oh, you still have to pay for them, right?”

“I’ll send the amount to the fortress later.” The blacksmith waved it off dismissively as he closed the box with his other hand. He pushed it slightly towards them and stared at Altaïr expectedly. Altaïr silently took the box and held it with both of his hands as the blacksmith said to Desmond, “Let me know if there are any other knives you’d want me to make. I’m sure…”

The blacksmith glanced at Altaïr, “I can help make sure all your cooking needs are met, Kadar.”

“Thanks, Hassam.” Desmond turned to face Altaïr and asked with a big grin, “Let’s go?”

“Of course.” Altaïr nodded and followed Desmond without even looking back at the currently grinning blacksmith.

The next morning, Altaïr was called up by the brother in charge of Masyaf’s finances to be scolded for buying such an expensive knife set (“For cooking?! Oh, you and Faheem truly spoil that boy! Are you even listening to me, Altaïr?!”) and…

Well…

Altaïr didn’t really mind being shouted at right now.

Not when he spent an entire afternoon helping Desmond cook yesterday.

That had been the day Altaïr knew that he didn’t just want to have sex with Desmond.

He also wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, no matter how uneventful their days may become. 

Fledgling (23) - Acre

“Ah, Altaïr. A letter came for you just an hour ago.” Jabal, the old Rafiq currently in charge of Acre, informed him just as he and Abbas returned from scoping out the supposed building that had incriminating documents that they needed to copy.

Altaïr walked towards the old Rafiq but stopped dead in his tracks when Jabal added, “It’s from Alamut.”

Even Abbas looked at Altaïr with pity as he watched the older Assassin take the letter from Jabal, his movements slower than before. Jabal’s eyebrow rose in amusement but he remained quiet.

Abbas did not.

“This is why I told you that it was stupid of you to move in with Kadar… just a few weeks after his father left.” Abbas said in the same tone that Altaïr had heard over and over again whenever Altaïr’s move to live with Desmond ‘just after’ Faheem left Masyaf would come out.

Altaïr remained quiet and unfolded the letter, reading the content silently with the trepidation that he always remembered having as a child whenever he thought Faheem would not approve of his actions.

It was embarrassingly funny how Faheem was still able to make him feel like a child that was afraid of disappointing him.

Not angering him…

Altaïr had actually never experienced being on the other side of Faheem’s anger.

But disappointing him?

That was actually scarier than disappointing Al Mualim.

Altaïr knew himself enough to know that his fear of Faheem’s disappointment was a bit because of how Faheem had been something like a second father to him after his father’s death but it was mostly because he knew that Desmond would be disappointed if he learned that Altaïr had disappointed his father.

Altaïr grimaced at the first few lines he read.

“Altaïr.

When I sent you a letter to inform you of Al Mualim’s orders for me to fortify Alamut and told you to take care of my son, I did not mean for you to move in and live a happy married life with him without his knowledge.”

Altaïr was already getting a headache just thinking about his reply and dreading either Faheem not believing him or actually believing him and finding it funny instead. 

The truth was…

Altaïr had not planned to, as many ( all ) liked to call it, stealthily live with Desmond like a married couple.

When he had returned to Masyaf from his mission in Cyprus, it had already been nighttime and he had visited the Al-Sayf home to tell Desmond that he was back before turning in for the night in his quarters in the fortress. 

He had been left speechless when he saw Desmond sitting by his window, staring outside as he quietly sang what seemed to be some kind of song about the sea. When Desmond finally noticed him, he apologized for not noticing Altaïr and for being lost in his own thoughts.

“Sorry you had to hear me sing that.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he mused with a smile, “I think… this is the first time I’ve ever realized how boring the silence in this house can be.”

That was when Altaïr realized that Desmond didn’t even notice that the thing he called boredom was actually loneliness.

That morning, he had requested to Al Mualim that he be permanently stationed in Masyaf instead. He was not surprised to hear his request be denied but, even with the anger bubbling underneath his skin, he accepted Al Mualim’s decision and went with the first alternative he thought of.

He moved into the Al-Sayf home.

He was sure that Al Mualim knew that he had been the reason why Altaïr had done such a thing but, as Altaïr noticed as he grew older, the old man simply kept quiet instead of owning up to his ‘mistakes’.  

Although…

Well…

Altaïr would also admit that being able to alleviate Desmond’s loneliness, even if for just a bit, by staying with him for as much as possible while he was in Masyaf, was definitely not the only reason why he had done such a thing.

“Altaïr?” Abbas called out when he noticed that Altaïr’s eyes had widened as he continued to read the letter, “Has he called for your head yet?”

The Rafiq gave Abbas a scolding look which he only shrugged at.

Altaïr lowered the letter and turned to face his friend with wide eyes as he summarized the rest of the letter with a disbelieving tone, “Aam Faheem… He… he gave me his blessing.”

Abbas’ eyes widened and he grabbed the letter as he said, “You lie!”

Too surprised by it, Altaïr let Abbas take the letter, and the younger man read out loud, “Altaïr, when I sent you…”

Altaïr tuned out Abbas’ voice and sat on the floor with his back against the counter as Abbas read out loud the letter, not even bothered by the informants and other Assassins poking their heads out from the other rooms to shamelessly listen in. Altaïr focused back when Abbas’ voice started to become more high-pitched as he got to the part that had left Altaïr surprised, “I’m sure you’d be happy to know that I have ordered Malik to not throw your things out while you are gone.”

“As questionable and, I suppose, ingenious?!” Abbas loudly read with the same disbelieving tone that Altaïr had when he read the very same word be used for his spur-of-the-moment decision, “... as your methods may be, I know how my son can be quite dense when it concerns your blatant affections and, as such, I do understand that this is partly my fault for telling you that he would not get a clue if you keep acting the way you’ve always acted and to make a grand gesture of some sort when you came to me asking for my advice, even when a smart person would not ask help from the father of the object of their affection but you did inherit your father’s stupidity in that regard. It is because I am quite fond of you and you are my favorite in-law at the moment (I have not given up on Malik yet), my sense of responsibility for you compels me to tell you good luck with him and I hope you enjoy your married life with my idiot son.”

Abbas sat on the floor next to Altaïr as he continued to read in a pretty much shell-shocked manner, “However, I would like to demand that you relinquish the bride price that has been left to you to my son. If you’re just going to sneak your way into my son’s…”

“Bed…” Abbas grimaced before continuing, “Then, at the very least, take responsibility and provide for my son.”

“Your father-in-law, Faheem Al-Sayf.” Abbas dropped the letter on the floor and rubbed his forehead.

“Abbas…” 

“Yes?”

“Did Aam Faheem just give me his blessing to have sex with Desmond?”

Instead of answering him, Abbas let out a frustrated groan.

Eagle (23) - Jerusalem

Abbas Sofian was Altaïr’s closest friend by process of elimination.

Altaïr knew that Desmond believed that he was Altaïr’s closest friend (if that disastrous fertility doll incident was any indication) but Desmond has and will always be more than a friend to Altaïr.

Malik Al-Sayf, on the other hand, started as an annoying boy who kept getting in the way. However, their current relationship was, if Altaïr was to summarize it, more akin to a sibling kind of relationship (to be more exact: a brother-in-law kind of sibling relationship).

Growing up with Abbas and being partnered with him for countless missions simply ensured that they would become friends sooner or later.

And perhaps Altaïr tried to befriend him in the first place because he felt some residual guilt over the death of Abbas’ father but he liked to think that he did like the uncomplicated friendship he had with Abbas (as long as he didn’t think about their shared horrid past that Abbas didn’t even know about). 

That was why he pretended not to notice Abbas’ attraction to Desmond.

Malik had warned him about it, of course, but Altaïr had asked him to keep quiet about it as well, which he did, less because he wanted to honor Altaïr’s request and more because he didn’t want to get between whatever complication would arise between Altaïr and Abbas. 

Altaïr wasn’t surprised that Abbas developed an attraction for Desmond. Anyone with eyes would, as far as Altaïr was concerned.

Altaïr paid Abbas’ attraction to Desmond no attention because he trusted Abbas to not act upon his feelings. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he wanted to believe that Abbas valued their friendship more than whatever romantic or sexual feelings he might have for Desmond.

And, to be completely honest, Altaïr wasn’t sure what Abbas’ feelings truly were.

When they had been friends, Abbas didn’t support Altaïr’s actions whenever they concerned Desmond but he didn’t condemn them either. At most, he would simply sigh at him. 

But now that Abbas hated him…

He knew all of Altaïr’s weak points, how to inflict the greatest pain with just a few simple words.

“One day, Kadar will see you for the beast that you are, and what he will see will disgust him.”

Altaïr knew that Abbas was trying to push him in front of Desmond, to make him break. But Altaïr will not break.

He will not let Desmond see such an ugly side of him.

“Do you have a death wish, Altaïr?” Malik asked with the tone of a man who had given up on finding peace in the world, rubbing his temple as he said, “Is that why you willingly speak about these 'complicated' thoughts about my brother to me and my father?”

“Just say the word and I shall cut you down, Altaïr.” Malik deadpanned but Altaïr paid his words no heed, knowing the man long enough to know that he would not kill him.

Torture him? Probably.

Maim him? Of course.

But Malik and Faheem wouldn’t kill him.

Not unless they deemed that Altaïr had done something completely unforgivable and, even then, they would still wait for Desmond's say so.

“There is no one else I can speak of this other than you and Aam Faheem.” Altaïr admitted without any embarrassment, much to the annoyance of Malik, “And my complicated thoughts are not the issue here.”

“When has it ever been?” Malik drawled.

“It’s Abbas’,” Altaïr announced, ignoring Malik's unnecessary comment.

Malik sighed once more and rubbed the bridge of his nose with enough ferocity that Altaïr wondered if he would break it.  

“I cannot stress how much I do not wish to get between you and Abbas.” Malik gritted his teeth as he admitted, “But if you plan to kill him, do not tell me anything, make sure you have all your bases cover, and prepare a solid alibi.”

“I appreciate your suggestions, Malik, but I do not wish to kill Abbas.” Altaïr frowned as he admitted, “I… do not think I can, to be completely honest.”

“That is because you are a fool, Altaïr.” Malik stated without any remorse, “Abbas is a dangerous man.”

“You only say that because of his attraction to Desmond.” Altaïr retorted calmly.

“It is not an attraction, it is an obsession.” Malik corrected with a low growl. He crossed his arms as he continued, “You do not see it because you are still clinging to whatever friendship you believe the two of you had. Whatever friendship it was, Altaïr, it was clearly one-sided. At the very least, Abbas had obviously thrown it all out the moment he pressed his blade against your throat.”

Altaïr remained silent, unable to muster any effort to try and defend Abbas. Malik stared at him for a moment before he stated, “There is truth to some of his words though. You do look at my brother with darkness hiding underneath your gentleness.”

Malik stared at Altaïr’s eyes as he stated, “Abbas sees the darkness in your eyes and thinks it is hunger for that is what he has for my brother. He sees a vicious beast because that is what he is as well. A beast raging against the world for what he sees as being an unfair cruel life. He wants my brother, yes, but his desire is rooted in his jealousy of you. Jealousy of what you have. His obsession with my brother is an obsession to take what you have and to hurt you in the process. Anything else he might feel is either a byproduct or he had deluded himself in thinking that it is real.”

Altaïr closed his eyes, understanding that Malik had a better understanding as he had been observing him and Abbas for so long. 

It was because Malik had been watching him for a very long time that Altaïr knew…

He needed to ask.

“What about me?” Altaïr asked as he opened his eyes to stare at the brother of the man he loved, “What is this darkness inside me if not a beast?”

“I never said the darkness you held was not a beast.” Malik clarified, “But a beast is neither good nor evil. It is ruled by its instincts and emotions. That is what you are, Altaïr. Your instincts make you a great Assassin but it is your emotions that control you.”

“And what drives you the most is the feelings you have for my brother. It is an obsession of yours, Altaïr, but not a self-destructive one like the one Abbas holds. Yours is an obsession nurtured and controlled by you.” Malik’s face was grim as he stated, “As a member of our Brotherhood, I see that as a weakness and as a liability that makes you both predictable and unpredictable at the same time. As the brother of the man you are obsessed with, I am pained to admit that I find comfort in knowing that, whatever happens, you will always prioritize him above all else.” 

Altaïr was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you think… do you think Desmond would be able to accept this ugly side of mine?”

“That ‘ugly side’ of yours is your feelings for him.” Malik reminded him. He was quiet for a few seconds before sighing as he rubbed his temple, all the while muttering under his breath, “Why must I be the one to have this conversation with the idiot that my brother…”

The rest of his muttering was too soft for Altaïr to hear but it wasn’t long before Malik stated in a calm tone, “Do you want my honest opinion, Altaïr? It doesn’t matter if you don’t since I’m going to give it to you anyway. This thing you call ugly is your obsession with him, your wishes, and your… desires… You’ve spent most of your life keeping it under a tight lid because you believe that you cannot act upon it. The other actions you made knowing what they might look like are what you believe is something safe to do. Touching his face, sleeping in a separate cot in the same room, giving all your money to him… They reflect your feelings but that’s not all of them. It is because you keep the ugly side of yours that my brother keeps being clueless about your true feelings. You are only showing the shallow portion of a deep sea and he doesn’t even know it.”

“Whatever choice you make is yours to make. I won’t tell you what to do about this, Altaïr. That is not my responsibility and, quite frankly, I do not want to get involved in this. I’m already involved as his brother and I will stand by his side. That’s as far as I am willing to go.” Malik stated before letting out a tired sigh and saying, “But you have, unfortunately, grown on me like a fungus so I will give you my honest opinion about something. Do you know what your greatest lie is?”

Malik didn’t wait for him to answer as he stated, “Your greatest lie is that you say that you fear his rejection. You know him enough to know that his greatest weakness is you. It has always been you, Altaïr.”

“You do not fear his rejection.” Malik stated, “You fear that he will accept you not because he does share the same feelings that you have for him. The truth is that you fear that he will accept you because he feels obligated to.”

“And that is the reason why you’re a fool.”

Eagle (24) - Masyaf

“No.”

The word felt like a knife being twisted as it dug deeper into him.

“But-”

“Altaïr.” With a single call of his name, Al Mualim silenced Altaïr completely. His master stared at him for a moment before sighing. He shook his head briefly before saying in a gentle grandfatherly-like tone, “I understand that you believe that you need to protect Kadar but he is stronger than you think he is.”

Altaïr couldn’t help but bristle at those words.

Not once had he thought of Desmond as weak. 

But that didn’t mean that he could stop himself from worrying about him.

And when he had heard that the Templars had managed to infiltrate Masyaf…

“I know he is but the Templars have set their sights on Masyaf and one of them managed to infiltrate us for years.” 

… and all Altaïr could remember was trying to get as quickly as he could to Desmond. To find him. Not to save him but to stop the illogical fear he had over Desmond’s safety.

Even though he knew that Desmond could take care of himself, his mind refused to calm down until he finally saw Desmond.

Nothing else mattered but Desmond’s safety.

That had been the only thing in Altaïr’s mind back then.

“Haras was weak.” Al Mualim stated with a grim expression, “He was fooled by the Templar's poisoned words.”

“It does not change the fact that someone we thought of as our brother has betrayed us.” Altaïr countered, glaring at the desk between him and Al Mualim, “How can we be sure that there are no other Templars hiding in Masyaf?”

How can Altaïr be sure that Desmond would be safe here?

“That's enough, Altaïr.” Al Mualim narrowed his eyes at the young man in front of him as he warned, “If you continue down that path, you will end up trusting no one.”

“That will never happen.” Altaïr shook his head before stating without a shadow of a doubt in his voice, “I will always trust Desmond.”

Al Mualim's face looked both understanding but also disappointed as he stared at Altaïr, “Your loyalty to Kadar is admirable, my boy.”

Altaïr bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from scoffing.

“But that is the reason why you are not qualified to become my successor.” Al Mualim continued with a small sigh.

Altaïr narrowed his eyes.

He didn’t understand why many assumed he wanted to become Al Mualim’s successor.

“I never wanted to be the mentor,” Altaïr stated.

That was true.

By the time he was old enough to understand what it would mean to be the mentor, he knew that there was only one person he believed could succeed Al Mualim…

“I know.” Al Mualim sighed once more before musing with a small mirthless smile, “But, sometimes, it is those who do not desire power that are most qualified to hold such power.”

“And Kadar is such a person.” Al Mualim proclaimed, staring at Altaïr seriously as he continued, “What I am about to tell you must never leave this room. Do you understand, Altaïr? Not even Kadar must know about this.”

“Give me your word that what I am about to tell you will remain between us no matter what.” Al Mualim pressed as his wizened eyes stared at Altaïr.

Altaïr nodded and replied, “I promise, master.”

Al Mualim stared at him for a few seconds before nodding as well. He placed his hands behind him as he explained, “The reason why I am keeping Kadar here in Masyaf is because I want to watch over him and make sure that he learns all he has because three years from now…”

Altaïr’s eyes widened as he heard Al Mualim proclaim, “I plan to announce Kadar as my successor.” 

Al Mualim began to walk around the desk, stopping in front of Altaïr as he continued, “By that time, all the repairs of Alamut should be completed.” 

Al Mualim placed his hand on Altaïr's shoulder and stated, “When the day comes, I plan to give Alamut to Kadar.” 

Altaïr's entire body froze at those words.

“Just like Ḥasan ‘Alā Dhikrihi's Salām had ordered me to establish and fortify our place here in Masyaf, Alamut will become Kadar's own Masyaf. There he must show his worth not only to our brothers but to the current lord of Alamut himself, Nūr al-Dīn Muhammad II.” 

“Faheem will be there to support him but we both know he will not be enough. He would need your support, Altaïr.” Al Mualim squeezed Altaïr’s shoulder lightly as he proclaimed, “A mentor must show his power through those around them and the highest most powerful symbol of a mentor’s might is none other than the Keeper. You will be his Keeper, Altaïr, and you will be the sharpest blade that will show the power that he wields.”

“That is why you must show to everyone that you deserved to be the youngest Master Assassin in the history of our Brotherhood. That you are one of the greatest Assassins in our history.” Al Mualim leaned closer and whispered to Altaïr’s ear, “Kadar needs you to be the best, Altaïr.”

Eagle (25) - Masyaf

Altaïr wanted to honor Desmond's feelings. He truly did. However, Altaïr was weak. He wanted to see Desmond.

He wanted to hear his heartbeat.

He wanted to be sure that Desmond was safe and alive.

That had been the only thing in his mind when he returned to Masyaf.

His entire body hurt and his mind were in turmoil but his feet carried him to the Al-Sayf…

No.

To their home.

His footsteps were silent and he managed to open the door just enough to slip inside without making the door creak. He stood by the door, staring at Desmond as he lay on his cot, breathing evenly. 

That should be enough.

Seeing Desmond sleeping peacefully should have been enough to calm the storm in Altaïr’s heart and lift the fog in his mind.

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t enough anymore.

Not when he spent so much time wondering what it would be like if he and Desmond weren’t Assassins.

If they did leave Levant and travel all over the world…

It… had been a wonderful dream.

And he wanted to hate Adha for cursing him with the taste of such a tempting dream.

But all he could feel for her was grief and he wasn’t even sure if he was grieving over her death or over the death of the dream of leaving Levant with Desmond that she had taken with her when she died.

In theory, he knew he could leave Levant anyway. 

And he accepted that ugly part of him that entertained the thought of simply whisking Desmond away from this place, whether he wanted to or not.

But Altaïr would never do such a thing.

Ignoring Desmond’s feelings and simply doing what he wanted were two things he could never do. Not with Desmond…

That was why he wanted to honor Desmond’s last words.

He knew that he had been in the wrong. That his actions had been worthy of Desmond’s anger.

And he also knew that he had not done anything to warrant Desmond’s forgiveness.

If anything, he had done nothing but screw up even more.

Not checking in with any of the Rafiqs…

Colluding with Adha without the approval of Al Mualim…

Assassinating everyone who had a hand in Adha’s death…

Even using the excuse that he had done it to avenge Adha sounded so weak in his mind.

He wasn’t even sure if he had been fueled by the desire to avenge Adha or if he had done it to take out his frustrations over the destruction of the idea of a peaceful life he could have had with Desmond, away from everything…

Altaïr knew all of these.

He understood all of these.

Maybe he didn’t understand why Desmond held such hatred for the word ‘special’ but he understood that it was important to Desmond and he wanted to honor that.

He truly did.

But…

As Altaïr walked towards Desmond, ignoring his own cot and lying next to Desmond, watching his face as it scrunched up slightly, he realized that whatever lid he had tightly held onto had been destroyed.

Maybe it was when Adha had asked him to leave Levant with her.

Maybe it was when that offer only made him think of how he cannot leave Desmond here in Masyaf, all alone and waiting for someone to come home.

Maybe that had been the day that Altaïr realized that more than being Desmond’s Keeper or being a willing stepping stone for Desmond to be accepted as the next mentor of the Brotherhood…

He just…

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Desmond. 

He wanted…

“Are you hurt?” 

Altaïr’s throat was dry as he whispered, “No.”

His hand instinctively reached out to Desmond but he managed to stop it before it could touch the younger man.

He closed his fist and started to pull his hand away.

He didn’t deserve to touch Desmond.

Not when he hadn’t shown Desmond that he understood what he had done wrong. While he cannot promise that he could change, he wanted to try.

Not because Desmond told him to but because he didn’t want to be the kind of person that would make Desmond lose his smile.

Altaïr was a pathetic man who was willing to change if it meant that Desmond would…

His breath hitched when he felt Desmond’s smaller softer hand catch his hand and pulled it towards his chest. Altaïr could feel his warmth as he tightly embraced Altaïr’s hand.

Yet it was the soft smile adorning Desmond’s face that took his breath away. 

“Welcome home, Altaïr.”

With such simple words, Altaïr knew…

He knew that Desmond didn’t hate him even after seeing how his arrogance and impatience had taken over.

He knew that Desmond still cared for him.

And, right now, at this very moment…

That was enough.

Altaïr found Malik a few minutes after he had been dismissed from the council’s emergency meeting which was fortunate as he had wanted to talk to him.

“Malik.” Altaïr greeted as he saw Malik entering the fortress, holding a stack of papers in his hands.

“Altaïr.” Malik greeted back and they began to walk the grand main staircase together. Altaïr knew the older Al-Sayf too much to know that he would only be insulted if he was to suggest that he take half of the stack.

There were many things he wanted to talk to Malik about.

A part of him wanted to talk about Adha and, maybe once the grief in his heart would ease even further, he would tell Malik all about it but not today.

Another part of him wanted to ask Malik if he would be willing to run away with them if they were to ask. Desmond had joked about taking him by force and dragging him around but he knew that Desmond would be saddened if they did do such a thing. They would still do it, of course, but Desmond would still feel bad about it.

Hell, even if they were to run away, he knew that Desmond would find some way to write letters addressed to Faheem, even if it was just to tell him that they were doing alright.

If Desmond had wished it, Altaïr was willing to storm Alamut castle right now and kidnap Faheem.

But those topics could be pushed aside.

As what he wanted to talk about was…

“I’m in love with your brother.”

Both of them ignored the poor recruit who had heard of Altaïr’s confession and had dropped the bucket of dirty water he had been using to clean the floors, destroying all of his hard work.

Altaïr didn’t even understand why he seemed so surprised by Altaïr’s admission. At this point, everyone in the Brotherhood (except Desmond) knew of his love for Desmond even if Altaïr had never said the words out loud before. 

“I know. At this point, everyone in Masyaf knows. You have not been subtle. At. All.” Malik boredly replied before he glared at all the other recruits who were now staring at the both of them. Next to him, Altaïr was unconcerned about being heard by them which was a stupid flaw of his that Malik had made clear multiple times before.

Still, Altaïr couldn’t help but be grateful for Malik’s silent support as, with a single glare, he had kept everyone from hearing more of Altaïr’s words.

Altaïr didn’t mind if all of Masyaf knew about how much of a fool he was for Desmond but he did appreciate Malik’s actions to ‘save’ his reputation.

All the recruits grabbed their cleaning tools and quickly left the hallway they were now walking to. Malik began to walk once more once he was sure all the recruits were out of earshot  and asked, “You do understand that he does not realize your feelings for him, right?”

“I know.” Altaïr nodded before continuing solemnly, “I plan to confess to him. But… not right now. I… My heart is still in turmoil at the moment and Desmond deserves more than what I am capable of giving him.”

Desmond’s presence was like a healing balm to his heart but Altaïr knew that the grief he felt was his responsibility to deal with. 

Desmond didn’t deserve someone who cannot give him his full attention and, at the moment, Altaïr could not do such a thing.

He will always prioritize Desmond but he needed some time to process his grief as well.

“Is this about what happened with the Chalice?”

“Yes.” 

A moment of silence passed between them and Malik realized that Altaïr would not say anything more. Instead of pushing, Malik simply sighed and said, “And I suppose you plan to confess to him after the storm in your heart has calmed?”

“Yes.”

“I do hope you are not asking for my blessing for I do not plan to give you one.”

“I’m not. Your blessing means nothing.”

“Careful with your words, Altaïr, less you wish for my blade to cut your tongue.” Malik took the time to glare at his fellow Assassin for a moment before turning his attention back to the long hallway they were walking in.

“Apologies.” Altaïr nodded briefly before explaining, “I simply mean that all that matters is Desmond’s answer to my confession.”

“That is true. Then I suppose that you have decided to torture me with this conversation to inform me of your plans?” Malik drawled.

“Yes,” Altaïr replied without a hint of even being sorry at all.

“Thank you for giving me prior notice of your plans, Altaïr. I will not tell you good luck nor will I say I will be cheering for you. But I will give you my word. My brother thinks of you dearly and you are an important person to him. Whatever future the two of you have, I will support my brother’s choices regardless of my personal feelings about them. The same cannot be said to you.”

Malik finally stopped walking and they both turned to face one another as he said, “If you do anything or say anything that will break my brother’s heart…”

“You will cut me down?” Altaïr asked dryly, remembering Malik’s words years ago.

“No.” Malik shook his head before answering, “Death will be a kindness that you shall not receive from me. I will break you and present your broken self to my brother myself. Your fate will be his to make. Do I make myself clear, Altaïr?”

“Yes, I understand your warning very well, Malik.”

“It was not a warning, Altaïr. It is a promise.”

Eagle (26) - Levant

Kissing Desmond was nothing like Altaïr had ever imagined. His lips were softer than Altaïr expected. He could taste the hint of the Al-Sayfs’ favorite tea instead of the sweetness of a candy crystal that Altaïr always imagined. 

Yet, for all the differences between reality and his imagination, Altaïr loved it.

And he wanted more.

Like a beast that has finally been given water after so long.

Altaïr pressed Desmond against the boulder, feeling his legs wrap around his waist and pulling him even closer. Desmond slowly slid down until their groins were rubbed against one another, making them both groan. 

Their kiss was filthy and loud but it wasn’t enough.

Altaïr wanted more.

Now that he knew that Desmond loved him more than a friend, whatever control he had left had snapped.

“Altaïr…” Desmond moaned as he threw his head back, letting Altaïr trail kisses from the edge of his mouth to the side of his neck. Altaïr sucked and licked every inch of Desmond’s neck, chasing the taste of sweat and that scented water that Desmond liked to wash himself with every day. Underneath that, Altaïr could taste something that was uniquely Desmond’s.

And it was addicting.

“Ah…” Desmond let out a gasp when he felt Altaïr bite the side of his neck lightly, making him tremble against him. 

“Altaïr…” Desmond whispered as he rubbed against Altaïr, making the older man muffle his groan against the reddening skin he had just a bit. Desmond tightened his hold onto Altaïr as he bit the shell of Altaïr’s ear briefly before whispering, “I need your dick in me now.”

Altaïr froze.

The idea was tempting as hell and Altaïr had been fantasizing about taking Desmond for so long but…

“I… I can’t.” Altaïr whispered back as he lifted his head to look at Desmond’s face, cursing himself when he saw the half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks that were now tempting him to just take the man pressed against him here and now. Still, he tried to convey his desires, “I want nothing more than to take you but… not like this, Desmond. If we are ever to consummate our love, I want our first to be in a bed where I can take my time to pleasure you the way you should be treasured.”

Desmond blinked at him for a moment before asking in a ludicrous tone, “Are you… are you actually a romantic, Altaïr?”

“I… am not sure what you mean?” Altaïr asked back before shaking his head and asking with a frown on his face, “Is it so wrong to wish for our first time to be special?”

“Oh my god.” Desmond snickered and leaned forward so he could press his forehead against Altaïr’s shoulder. Altaïr’s frown deepened when he heard Desmond continue to snicker against his skin.

“Desmond…”

“Sorry. It’s just…” Desmond turned his head to smile at Altaïr as he said, “It’s cute. And sorta… surprising, I guess?”

“Did you think that I would treat you roughly?” Altaïr asked with a frown, a bit hurt that Desmond would believe that he wouldn’t treat Desmond well.

“Well…” Desmond leaned back and rested his arms on Altaïr’s shoulders as he pressed his back against the boulder, “I guess I just thought of you as the sex on a haystack kind of guy.”

“That would be annoying.” Altaïr commented with a frown, “The hay would stick to our skin and get everywhere…”

Altaïr didn’t understand why that made Desmond let out a burst of loud laughter but he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Desmond’s laughter.

“I love you,” Altaïr whispered, still unable to believe that he could say it out loud. Desmond’s laughter halted and he stared at Altaïr. 

Desmond grinned and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together as he whispered, “I love you too.”

Hearing such words made his heart soar and he captured Desmond’s lips once more.

The desperation in his kiss was pushed slightly to the side by his desire to taste Desmond, to engrave in his mind how it feels to kiss Desmond as if they had all the time in the world.

He could feel Desmond’s lips curve into a smile against his lips before it became a grin as Desmond pulled him until Altaïr was pressing Desmond against the boulder. 

Desmond pulled away slightly and whispered against Altaïr’s lips, “By consummate, you mean your dick in my ass, right?”

Altaïr groaned, unable to form any words as he nodded.

“Okay. So anything else is okay, right?” Desmond asked and Altaïr could hear the gentleness in his voice as he asked, “Like… can I touch your dick?”

“Desmond.” Altaïr groaned and pressed his forehead against the side of Desmond’s neck.

“You gotta tell me what I can and can’t do, Altaïr. I don’t want to do something you don’t-” Desmond paused and stared at Altaïr for a moment before he asked, “Are… are you getting turned on by the way I talk?”

Desmond’s lips curved into an impish grin when Altaïr hid his face against the side of his neck as he nodded. Desmond kissed Altaïr’s cheek before whispering, “Altaïr…”

Altaïr let out a grunt and his breath hitched when he felt Desmond bit the shell of his ear lightly before whispering, “If, at any time, you don’t like anything I’m doing, just let go of me, alright?”

Altaïr froze when he felt Desmond push him away slightly, letting out a groan when Desmond used one hand to pull both of their breeches down just enough to free their aching cocks.

Desmond had to slide down a bit more so he could press their cocks together comfortably. Desmond placed his left hand by the side of Altaïr’s neck, using his thumb to push Altaïr’s jaw to look at him. With his eyes trained on Altaïr’s face, he slowly licked his hand, starting from the line that separated his hand from his wrist, going through his palm, and even pressing his middle finger against his tongue as he licked to the tip. Altaïr’s eyes dilated at that, making Desmond smile coyly at him as he ignored the taste of his leather fingerless glove. He kissed Altaïr’s jaw before pressing their lips together briefly, pulling away as his hand wrapped around both of their cocks. 

Or, at least he tried to, anyway…

“How are you so big?” Desmond groaned as his hand could only cover one side of their cocks. Still, he began to stroke them as he whispered, “God, you do need to prepare me to take this big dick.”

Desmond pressed his palm against the tip of their cocks, rubbing them both as he whispered, all the while staring at Altaïr’s face, “Would you prepare me with your tongue? Or would you drench your fingers in oil instead, Altaïr? Will you fuck me with one finger first to get me used to it or would you fuck me with two fingers right from the start just to see me squirm?”

“I’d love it, you know?” Desmond whispered as he began to stroke both their cocks, “I’ll love the slight burn and feeling so full just from two of your fingers. I’ll squirm and moan while you fucked me with just your fingers.”

“Desmond…” Altaïr groaned, closing his eyes and gripping Desmond’s waist tightly, his nails digging against the fabric of Desmond’s robes. 

“Will you lay me on my back so you can see my face? Or will you get me on my hands and knees?” Desmond asked and leaned forward to suck the side of Altaïr’s neck, leaving an angry red mark, “Would you use your other hand to stroke my cock while fucking me with your fingers? Or will you leave my cock untouched, hard, and aching?”

“I think I’ll like it if you don’t.” Desmond whispered as he bit another part of Altaïr’s neck lightly before continuing, “My entire focus will be on your fingers inside me. I’ll start begging for you to fuck me.”

“Please, Altaïr…” Desmond whispered breathlessly, “Please… I need your cock. I need yo-”

Desmond let out a surprised gasp when Altaïr suddenly growled before pushing him against the boulder. Altaïr captured his lips in an open filthy kiss as pressed his body against Desmond. He placed both his hands under Desmond’s knees to spread his legs wider and pressed their cocks together before thrusting slowly to rub their cocks together.

Desmond moaned loudly and both of his hands grabbed Altaïr’s shoulders. His eyes closed as he pulled away from their kiss so he could groan, “Yes, oh god, Altaïr.”

“Desmond,” Altaïr growled and captured his lips once more, muffling Desmond’s moans as he began to thrust faster. Both of their cocks were slicked with precum and Desmond’s saliva, making Altaïr’s thrusts more pleasurable than they should have been.

Desmond used both of his hands to wrap both of their cocks together. Altaïr groaned. Desmond’s hands were soft but he could still feel the calluses of his fingertips and the smooth texture of his leather gloves. Altaïr thrust into the opening left by Desmond’s hands, feeling the warmth all around him before pulling back slightly before thrusting faster. Desmond moaned as he was pushed up, “That’s it. Fuck, Altaïr, yes, there.”

Altaïr closed his eyes and sucked on Desmond’s Adam Apple as he continued to thrust as Desmond’s moans and the filthy sounds made by skin meeting skin felt like he was actually inside Desmond right now.

“So big. God.” Desmond moaned and leaned his head slightly to the side to make it easier for Altaïr to leave marks all over the side of his neck as he continued to thrust into Desmond’s hands and rub against Desmond’s dick, “You feel so good, Altaïr. Fill me up so well.”

A litany of filthy words left Desmond’s lips which only made Altaïr thrust even faster and harder, “That’s it. Fuck me hard. Yes.” 

“Desmond…” Altaïr groaned, trying to warn Desmond that he was so close.

Desmond whispered, “Yes, oh god, yes. Cum inside, Altaïr.”

“Mark me,” Desmond whispered and the image of cumming inside Desmond, of leaving something of his inside Desmond, was all he needed to finally cum. Desmond moaned and furiously rubbed his own aching dick as most of Altaïr’s cum hit his robes while a bit of his cum managed to hit Altaïr’s jaw. Before Altaïr could even react, Desmond licked the cum off his jaw before throwing his head back as he covered the tip of his cock as he came as well. Desmond managed to contain his own cum on his hand, letting out a tired but satisfied sigh as he pressed his back against the boulder. 

They were both breathing heavily as they tried to ride out the aftershocks of their orgasms. Altaïr’s breath hitched when Desmond lifted his cum drenched hand and licked it off, all the while staring at Altaïr’s eyes. Desmond’s lips curved into a grin as he pressed their foreheads together. 

“Just to be clear…” Desmond’s grin turned a bit more impish as he said, “I like it rough too.”

Altaïr stared at him for a moment before letting out a burst of loud laughter.

It seemed… 

He wasn’t the only one keeping a beast on a leash.