coffee, vinyls and other pleasant things; desmond/malik fanfic

[kai19999]

Desmond stared across the road, his common sense getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the busy Italian street.

All presence of time seemed to freeze the moment his eyes fell on him, his breath getting caught in his throat. Even behind him, he could hear a few people muttering rude phrases in a language he was just barely getting the hang of. This man made his way through the thickening Fall crowd, where everyone could be seen wearing their brand new pea coats, thin jackets or hoodies - there were more designer brand names purchased in Milan than Desmond’s eyes could handle. After all, Desmond was still a foreigner, not exactly used to the large city and the benefits that came with it. In this mass, he was anonymous, just another person walking along the streets of Florence. But forget the universities, the mouth watering scent of cuisine in the air, the attractive Italian women walking with legs longer than stilts - Desmond’s eyes would not peel away from this man.

His skin was dark, definitely darker than those born in the hot European countries. His eyes were sharp, giving condescending stares with anyone who he locked gazes with. With a slender face, he had a larger nose - not one of the Italian’s, but perhaps somewhere from the Middle East. After all, Desmond knew what Middle Eastern men looked like - he had stayed there with his cousin, Altair for almost one month when he was going through a financial crisis. This man’s hair was cut very short, and was so dark it was almost black. Desmond wanted to know what colour his hair exactly was and if he wanted to do that, he needed to get closer. Glancing right, then left, he held his breath and jogged across the street.

People stared, considering he had just broken apart from the group and was now making his way across a very busy, dangerous street.

They couldn’t see that his attention was glued to the man who now turned a corner and Desmond picked up his pace, shoving past people when he finally made it to the other side. As fast as he could, Desmond turned the corner and searched for any sign of his instant crush along the lines of bobbing heads. Desmond was just about to turn around when he saw the man disappear into a nearby Starbucks. Grinning, Desmond set off and walked inside, relishing the smell of sweets and freshly brewed coffee in the madhouse. People were standing eagerly in line for their specialty coffees and Desmond watched as the dark haired man joined last in queue. In awe, Desmond’s jaw dropped when he saw that he reached into his jacket pouch, pulled out a pocket watch, pressed the button at the top and shut it after a second instead of glancing at his wrist for an actual watch. Desmond then knew he needed his name. Absolutely needed it - or else he might have gone insane the minute he lost track of him. Feeling slightly creepy, Desmond pulled down the hood of his sweater and joined the line, getting an instant lung full of the man’s cologne. Nothing had ever appealed to Desmond as much as this wonderful scent did. All Desmond wanted to do was wrap his arms around him and figure out how rough his stubble was. But that’s when he noticed something he hadn’t seen in the crowd, when people were pressed side by side.

This man was missing an arm.

Being up close to his back, he could see that in his left sleeve it looked completely empty, compared to his right. There, on his right, he could see a hand, where on the other side, there was only the fabric hanging loosely. Instantly, Desmond felt a wave of guilt over come him as he watched the man step forward in the line, not in as much as a rush as the other people were in. It was then Desmond realized he was standing too close that he stepped back, biting his lip momentarily.

He swore he heard the man chuckle. Or snort. It was something along the lines of a quiet laugh.

It was almost like agony as Desmond tried to figure out how to talk to him. All he had to do was just ask for his name, but he didn’t want to come off as stalker-ish. Plus, this was a man who had probably been through a lot and what if the accident with his… limb had just been fairly recent? Perhaps he was alone for a reason. He wasn’t texting, or talking on his cellphone or video calling like ninety percent of people in the Starbucks were. He was merely standing there, moving when the person in front of him did. It would be simple. If only he could turn around for a quick second, Desmond could introduce himself. He felt like his was in high school all over again. Desmond hadn’t felt butterflies for years.

Suddenly, Desmond’s infatuating stranger was at the front of line and when he was called up, Desmond felt himself scowl. He didn’t want the man to walk away from him, he wanted this unfamiliar person to walk to him. Desmond kept his senses on high alert, waiting for the woman to ask him what he was ordering.

“A tall two pump peppermint, two pump mocha blended cream frappuccino, per favore?” Desmond smiled warmly. This man was still learning Italian as well. He had to be new to the country, either that, or he was just awful at the language as his Middle Eastern accent overrode his Italian syllables.  Slowly, Desmond stepped up to the counter where he was called and ordered a very bland, quick coffee. He walked over to where the man was waiting for his and stood beside him, trying not to invade his personal space again. It took more strength than Desmond thought he had.

Suddenly, a woman was talking to him very quick. Desmond could only pick up a few words. “How’s university in… meet any… keep in… don’t talk much… any guys…”

He was attending University? Where? Here? In Florence? Desmond was now more determined than ever to figure out who this man was. What if he went to Florence University of the Arts? Desmond swore he would never fall again, but this time, it seemed inevitable if he was in reaching distance.

“Alright… no one special… call you later… this guy… staring at me… ran across the street… cute…”

Desmond felt his cheeks flush and tried everything to make it seem as if he wasn’t paying any attention. He twiddled his thumbs, stared at the menu sign as if he was an indecisive bastard and couldn’t make up his mind, even though he had already purchased his coffee. He checked his phone - but who would he expect messages from? He was new here. He didn’t have any friends and even though he had been around the city for a month, he hadn’t made any plans. Always stuck in his temporary apartment, with his flat mate gone from eight in the morning until breakfast the next day. Desmond had to admit, he made a decent scrambled eggs wrapped in pancakes, topped with imported Canadian maple syrup. He didn’t know why it was always in their fridge, but he didn’t complain - it was absolutely delicious. He had only been there for a month, he appreciated when Altair could pull a few strings for him, having a friend in Florence by the name of Ezio had made things extremely easy for Desmond. Cheap rent, and a decent fellow to be friendly with, even if he was gone most of the time.

Wait. Was this stranger talking about him?

“Oh Malik,” the girl laughed and handed him his drink, then Desmond’s cup with a wink. Malik. His name had to be Malik. Malik what though?

“Malik?” Desmond asked as quick as he could, praying that the man would turn around and face him. And he did. Somehow, Desmond felt his legs give out from underneath him but he was still standing, figuring out he was slightly shorter than Malik was.

“Do I know you?” He asked bluntly, tugging at the red scarf around his neck.

“I… Maybe…” Desmond replied hesitantly, feeling his nerves begin to act up. “Do you go to Florence University of the Arts?”

“Yes,” Malik replied dryly, and Desmond got the gut feeling that Malik felt as if he was wasting time on this stranger. Desmond had to make the conversation more lively, hold his interest. “Why are you asking me?”

“Uh, well…” Desmond racked his head for an answer that would blow Malik’s mind. “You seem cool.” More like blow his chances. Malik snorted and Desmond wasn’t sure if it was from pity or humor. He watched as people pushed past them, eager to get back out into the cool streets to get to their destination. Desmond’s was standing right here in front of him.

“Is that all?” Malik rose an eyebrow and sipped from his cup. Desmond wished he was that cup, touching Malik’s lips softly so not to burn him. He could tell Malik was quickly losing interest and Desmond knew he had to pull out the last card of his deck.

“It’s just… I’m new to the area… I’m attending Florence University of the Arts this year for their Piano courses… and, well, I still don’t know anyone here,” Desmond frowned, hoping that Malik wouldn’t just turn his back on him. And much to his surprise, he didn’t.

“Fine. Follow me - maybe you’ll be more interesting than you look.” Desmond tried to hide his smile, but didn’t succeed very well as he stepped up beside Malik, a silly grin on his face. The two walked in silence, both of them sipping at their Starbucks cups awkwardly.

“What courses are you taking?” Desmond asked curiously, wondering if they were going to be in the same lecture room together.

“I’m taking Philosophy and Science in Early Modern Italy. What about you?” Malik didn’t even bother to look at them as they walked along the sidewalk, getting a chill through their coats from the cool Fall air.

“Piano One… I never thought I’d take it farther than high school but doing it… professionally would be really neat. Don’t you think?”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Malik replied dryly, glancing at all the couples hand in hand, heads close together whispering to each other about their evening plans. Already the sun was beginning to set and Desmond wondered where Malik was sleeping tonight.

“Where do you live?” Desmond tried again, trying to keep the conversation flowing. He hated the awkward, abrupt stops in the middle when Malik quit contributing.

“I’m in residence right now, actually.”

“Oh,” Desmond bit his lip, trying to think of anything else to say. “How long have you-”

“Three years.”

“But you don’t sound like you have much of an Italian accent.” Desmond cut in, surprised they were still talking full English.

“Well, no. I only speak Italian inside the class, otherwise, I try to keep it all English. People in Florence speak English too - it’s just a rare sight to see.” Malik yawned and in the distance, Desmond could see the university buildings coming into view. “How well can you play piano?”

“Huh?” Desmond looked at him, shivering slightly.

“I asked, how well can you play piano? You said you played it, right?” Malik glanced down at him and it was only then Desmond noticed how kissable Malik’s lips were.

“Oh! Uh… I can play lots of things…”

“There’s a piano in my residence building - would you play for me?” Malik looked away, staring at the golden leaves falling from a tall tree in someone’s yard. Soon enough, they would be starting university and getting on with their lives.

“Of course!” Desmond grinned madly, almost dropping his hot drink all over his shoes as he almost jumped in excitement. “I can play you a song by Muse…”

“I don’t know who they are.”

“I’m sure you’ll like it anyways,” Desmond smiled and tossed his coffee in the garbage. He hadn’t even finished the thing half way through before he was tired of holding it in his hands. As they began to walk onto the campus, Desmond smiled. Soon he could be living here like Malik was, becoming a student and anxiously beginning his way into his own life. Now he was an adult, making his very own choices while in charge of his own responsibilities.

“This way,” Malik began leading him and the two of them walked to massive building complex. Desmond watched as Malik swung open the door and inside, he was granted with a posh interior. There were leather couches, modern tables, exquisite paintings hung on the wall and even the desk looked like it cost more than Desmond’s tuition fees. There even seemed to be a faux-fur rug on the ground near the couches. Desmond wanted nothing more than to sit down on those with Malik and cuddle with him all night. As gay as that sounded, Desmond stared at the couches.

“Earth to-… Hey, I didn’t even catch your name.”

“Oh! Sorry, it’s Desmond. Desmond Miles. Uh, I’m new here-”

“Yes, you mentioned that earlier. Malik A-Sayf.” Desmond waited for him to offer his hand but he didn’t, and it didn’t seem like he was the type to shake hands either. “Just this way,” Desmond followed behind him awkwardly. He felt out of place here.

“It’s so stylish here.” Desmond stated blankly, trying to absorb his expensive surroundings.

“Well, I did have to pay a little extra to get the… nicer accommodations. I’m sure the cheaper areas aren’t too bad.”

Actually, they’re shit, Desmond wanted to say out loud, but he didn’t. “They’re okay. Just the basics, I guess. I don’t exactly come from a rich family,” he laughed nervously.

“Neither do I. I’ve been saving up ever since I heard about this university. And that was what, ten years ago? I’ve been working at a part time job ever since I was fourteen. I had a little extra cash to spend so it went to this. Quite nice.”

A bit of a snob, but Desmond didn’t mind. When they walked into another impressive looking room with a black European leather love seat, Desmond saw the grand piano in the corner of the room. Desmond slowly walked over to the instrument, noticing how gorgeous it was and how high the price must have been. It was a sleek black piano with a clear, glass cover and had a lovely looking stool that when Desmond sat on it, he felt as if he were on stage in front of thousands. He could tell Malik was watching him curiously, positioning himself on that one couch.

“What will you play me?” Malik asked, cupping his drink as he took a sip.

“Uh…” Desmond did a quick scale, getting a swift feel of the keys. They felt smooth, easy to play as he practice Fur Elise, tiredly letting each note wake him from his love drunk state.

“Fur Elise?” Desmond heard Malik laugh and it caused him to miss a note making his cheeks flush brightly.

“I’m just warming up,” Desmond frowned and took a deep breath before he dove into his main song, Piano Thing by Muse. He had played this piece hundreds of times, knew every note by heart. It was short but it won the audience over. It was pleasing to the ears and an easy melody to remember. His fingers flew across the keys as he nodded his head along with the tune, feeling a natural instinct take over his whole body as he played with a sharp concentration.

“Sounds okay,” Malik chipped in, but Desmond couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning. If it was possible, Desmond played with more precision, making each key sound better than the last. Through the rest of the song, Malik didn’t make a single remark, or so ones that Desmond didn’t hear. Hitting the final few chords, Desmond smiled brightly as he finished and heard Malik clap reluctantly. “Not bad. Sounded a little simple,” Malik said nonchalantly, only clapping momentarily before he stood up.

“Wait, I can play-”

Malik abruptly cut him off. “Let’s go to my dorm, shall we?”

“Oh.” Desmond felt his ears burn, toying with the idea of being completely alone with Malik for once.

“Other people are waiting to use this piano for actual practice,” Malik smiled slightly, throwing his cup in the garbage. Desmond looked out the window to see a mousy man with a book, waiting outside the door.

“Oh, oops,” Desmond smiled weakly and got off the stool, eager to see Malik’s room.

It seemed as if Malik was walking in slow motion as they walked out the door. Desmond wanted nothing more than to curl up in Malik’s sheets and stay there for the night. University wasn’t starting in three says, so he couldn’t move into his dorm for another two. He would love to stay for the few remaining days, doing nothing but lying in this stranger’s arms for hours. When they were walking up the stairs, Desmond was silent as he tried to listen to Malik’s breathing.

“You talk nonstop but suddenly you are now silent. Cat got your tongue?” He teased, opening the fifth floor door.

“No! Uh… I’m just tired…”  He frowned yawning as they reached his door, room 313.

“Am I boring?” Malik asked as he pulled out his keys and let them both in. Desmond walked in, surprised at how bare the place was. The kitchen looked nice, all modern with smooth edges and black marble tile. The walls were as if it was plain grey slates, no decorations what so ever. It was very, very blank. As if he hadn’t been living here at all.

“This room is boring,” Desmond sighed as he walked to the dining table.

“My roommate left, took all the decorations with him. I haven’t felt like fixing it up at all. Maybe my new roommate might have something,” Malik kept a straight face as he showed Desmond where the bathroom was, then lead him to his room’s door.

“Wow,” Desmond felt his jaw drop as Malik opened the door for him. The wall was absolutely covered in maps of all sizes, designs and colours. There was hardly an inch of wall space as maps covered it all up, or a Post It was reminding Malik about things to do before the courses began. In the corner of the room was a stack of vinyls, beside them a record player.

“They still exist?” Desmond asked in disbelief as he ran over to it, crouching down to look at the old vinyls.

“Of course,” Malik smiled and sat on his double bed, creaking as his weight sank into it. “Could you close the window? It’s chilly in here.”

“Yeah sure,” Desmond got up and slammed it down loudly, staring outside. It was a sea of yellow, orange and red as the leaves were blown back and forth. The vast sky was dyed a deep purple, the sun was hardly visible in the distance as it was descending behind a tall building far away. Desmond felt a chill shoot down his spine as he suddenly found Malik’s minty breath against his neck.

“Cold?” Malik asked, his words a pleasant whisper in Desmond’s ear.

“Yes,” Desmond muttered back, trying to keep his composure, which was falling apart rapidly.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” He offered and reached around Desmond’s chest, beginning to undo the top button of Desmond’s pea coat. All the remaining heat in his body rushed to his face as he let Malik undo the buttons of his jacket for him. Somewhere about halfway through, he found himself leaning back into the man’s chest, eyes closed as he listened to him breathe. He was unbuttoning it kind of slowly… Was it harder with one arm? He swore he could hear Malik smirk as he finally undid the last button and slid his jacket off, revealing a plain white t-shirt. “Well?” Malik asked and tossed Desmond’s jacket on his bed.

“Huh?” He slowly turned around and stared at Malik, who was undoing his own jacket. Desmond’s hands automatically shot out and began to help him, feeling his cheeks brighten as Malik’s one hand gradually stopped fumbling.

“Hot chocolate - would you like some?” Desmond finally undid all six buttons and leaned in close, almost burying his face into the crook of Malik’s neck, as he pulled it off and tossed it on the bed. For a moment, he lingered, taking in the scent of Malik’s musky and appealing cologne. He wondered if the man’s bed sheets smelled like he did.

“Uh, yeah. Sure…” Desmond replied, suddenly feeling very light headed.

“Wait here,” Malik spoke dryly, turned around and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Instantly, Desmond’s eyes scanned the whole room before he went and looked at things up close. The maps were multiple detailed views of Florence and surrounding cities, with all sorts of bends and turns and secret alleys. Except now they weren’t really that secret. Desmond’s eyes trailed to the vinyl record player and he couldn’t help but bend down and start flicking through all the records. There were names he hadn’t even heard of before, next to popular names like Bill Crosby, Elvis or Billie Holliday. Desmond knew them. Hesitantly, he picked up something by the name of Ella Fitzgerald and opened the record player case. He knew how to work one of these, his dad had one after all at home - it was a pity they hadn’t held onto it.

“Somewhere someday, we’ll be close together, wait and see,” a sweet voice sung out from the faint static sounding player, instantly capturing Desmond’s heart. Mesmerized by the music, Desmond didn’t even notice Malik come in with two mugs of hot chocolate until the song came to a beautiful closure, tugging at Desmond’s heart strings.

“Like her?” Malik grinned and set Desmond’s mug on the bed side table.

“Oh! Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to start-”

“You didn’t mean to? So did your hands just slip and pick up a vinyl, set it down in the player carefully and just automatically hit play?” Malik stared at him, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. Desmond’s heart pounded in his chest and he could feel a queasy feeling making its way up his throat.

“I… I…”

“Relax, I am just merely pulling your leg. That is the phrase, right?” Malik laughed and set his mug down, grabbing Desmond’s.

“… Y-yeah!” Desmond laughed with him, taking the mug from Malik as he climbed up on the bed and sat beside him quietly, letting the scratchy tunes fill their empty conversation. Slowly, they both sipped at their hot chocolate and occasionally exchanged small words regarding the music in the air around them. How calm it was, how pleasant her voice was, the brilliance of the trumpet and how everything just seemed to tie together perfectly. They were all substituted words for what Desmond really wanted to say.

“Fuck it.” Desmond murmured and Malik looked at him with alarmed eyes as the song transitioned into the next one.

“What seems to be the matter? Is it too cold? You should not have waited so long,” Malik teased and gently set down his own mug, then took Desmond’s.

“I hardly know you but I don’t care - I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first saw you.” The words fell from Desmond’s lips so quickly that Malik didn’t have any time to register what was going to happen to him. Very suddenly, Desmond grabbed Malik’s face and pressed their lips together. Eyes squeezed tight, Desmond felt his stomachs doing flips as he felt Malik tense up and freeze completely, a warm mug still in his hand. Pulling away, Desmond slowly opened his eyes and bit his lip, trying to figure out if Malik was going to kiss or kick him.

Slowly, Malik set the mug down on his bed side table and opened his eyes, staring at Desmond with a bewildered expression.

“Huh. I do not even know anything about you.” Malik swallowed loudly and Desmond instantly reached out, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly.

“You can learn…” Desmond gave a quick squeeze before he pulled away, smiling reassuringly at Malik before he leaned in slightly again, their noses touching. Never before, had Desmond felt such electricity moving through him like a currant this strong ever before. Every touch sent a shock through his body and made him long for more. He knew he wouldn’t be able to let go at all anymore.

“Fine. But only if you do not fall behind in your studies,” Malik’s lips twisted into a smile and Desmond laughed, kissing him once again.

“Of course not. The more I learn about the piano, the more I can learn about you - right?” Desmond smiled and caressed Malik’s cheek, glad that he had finally done something right all day.

“Correct. And perhaps I will teach you more about older music. You have only scratched the surface, Desmond.”

“That means I’ll have to come to your room more often,” Desmond smirked and playfully nipped at Malik’s neck.

“Stay then,” Malik whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “I can teach you all sorts of things.”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse,” Desmond grinned and forgot all about their hot chocolate as they found warmth in other, pleasant things.