teenaged Malik/Altair
anonymous
May 8 2010, 23:54:31 UTC
Malik and Altair grew up together and trained together as assassins! They were practically rivals! Can't be that hard to imagine some first-time messing around in the cots, right?
They would never admit to ever being friends. The other assassins knew all about their rivalry, of course, but through the simple fact that they had not killed each other yet, that was amended to a friendly rivalry. None of them would have admitted it either, of course.
Malik and Altaïr frequently talked (argued) mostly in Altaïr's room, and mostly until very late hours of the night. It usually ended with them sleeping together (in the same room, that is, normally on opposite sides and still mad at each other) and very rarely a mad instructor, as few wished to anger Al Mualim through his favorite student.
Some would have said it was inevitable (if some knew about the incident). Two boys (men) who were rivals (not friendly) who spent much of their time in each other's room (arguing, of course) were bound to talk about sex at one point or another
( ... )
Training Match [1/2]
anonymous
May 18 2010, 20:30:43 UTC
Have a second fill. No cots, sorry, I jumped on the 'training' bit of your prompt. And the 'first-time messing around,' of course.
--
Altaïr knows that there's only so much a wooden sword can take. He also knows that a sword should never be swung with this much force. If he's heard it once, he's heard it a thousand times. Control is superior to velocity, Altaïr. A sword fight is not won with powerful blows, Altaïr. You must find your opponent's rhythm and act when it falters.
Every duel can be won with a single strike.
Altaïr believes that. He knows there's an art to watching and waiting, to falling into the rhythm of a fight and feeling each opposing strike as it comes, of smoothly evading and pouncing on the first opening that appears. But he's less receptive to advice when he's losing, and his sparring partner has been deflecting his blows for God knows how long, and he doesn't believe in holding back. Bad technique or not, he's going to kick Malik's ass. Altaïr shouts wordlessly and slams the practice sword against his
( ... )
Training Match [2/2]
anonymous
May 18 2010, 20:39:03 UTC
With a certain amount of horror, Altaïr realizes that he's getting hard from grappling. With Malik. It's an unusual sense of shame that holds him back, trying to keep Malik at a safe distance even as he tries to pin him down, unwilling to accidentally give himself away even for a sure victory. He's pushed onto his back again, crushed between Malik's body and the ground, and for a moment, his rage flares and he forgets to care that he's just given himself away. And then realization hits him, numbing and overpowering and he forgets to breathe, because Malik's erection is pressing into his hip and ohfuckohfuckohfuck.
Malik freezes and stares at him.
Altaïr shifts his hips uncomfortably, and the slight friction sends a tremor of pleasure up his spine. He hears Malik's breath catch in his throat, and suddenly, it's a whole new game. Everything is permitted, he thinks distinctly. He hooks his leg against the other boy's hip and rocks up, and hisses between his teeth at the contact
( ... )
...Right?
.....Please?
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OH FUCK ME.
DO WANT.
The bedsheets should be gray and coarse. Thank captcha: "between grayness"
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Malik and Altaïr frequently talked (argued) mostly in Altaïr's room, and mostly until very late hours of the night. It usually ended with them sleeping together (in the same room, that is, normally on opposite sides and still mad at each other) and very rarely a mad instructor, as few wished to anger Al Mualim through his favorite student.
Some would have said it was inevitable (if some knew about the incident). Two boys (men) who were rivals (not friendly) who spent much of their time in each other's room (arguing, of course) were bound to talk about sex at one point or another ( ... )
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Penis envy.
I lol'd. So very hard. XD
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This was hilariously amazing :'D
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--
Altaïr knows that there's only so much a wooden sword can take. He also knows that a sword should never be swung with this much force. If he's heard it once, he's heard it a thousand times. Control is superior to velocity, Altaïr. A sword fight is not won with powerful blows, Altaïr. You must find your opponent's rhythm and act when it falters.
Every duel can be won with a single strike.
Altaïr believes that. He knows there's an art to watching and waiting, to falling into the rhythm of a fight and feeling each opposing strike as it comes, of smoothly evading and pouncing on the first opening that appears. But he's less receptive to advice when he's losing, and his sparring partner has been deflecting his blows for God knows how long, and he doesn't believe in holding back. Bad technique or not, he's going to kick Malik's ass. Altaïr shouts wordlessly and slams the practice sword against his ( ... )
Reply
Malik freezes and stares at him.
Altaïr shifts his hips uncomfortably, and the slight friction sends a tremor of pleasure up his spine. He hears Malik's breath catch in his throat, and suddenly, it's a whole new game. Everything is permitted, he thinks distinctly. He hooks his leg against the other boy's hip and rocks up, and hisses between his teeth at the contact ( ... )
Reply
Teen!Altair/Malik has just become my newest favourite kink.
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My fucking god that made my morning!!
You. Writer. You are made of win.
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