Assassin's Creed - Turnabout is fair play - R - Malik x Altaïr
Title: Turnabout is fair play.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Malik Al'Sayf x Altaïr ibn Al'Ahad
Warning(s): Adult situations, PWP
Spoiler(s): Not technically a spoiler, but directly referances this.
Prompt(s): Anon asked for "I'd like to see the reversal on the stump kink fic from page one. Malik gets his revenge and finds out Altair's chest is his weak point. Or, really, anywhere else would work. Whatever you like, writer anon." at forkinsocket's Assassin's Creed Kink Meme, found here.
Word Count: 1,057
Rants: First AC fic(let)! I'm too much of an attention whore to leave things anon, so I had to present here as well.
Disclaimer: Don't own Assassin's Creed, though if I did Desmond would spend more time half naked. Just saying.
Crossposted to: See Kink Meme above, here.
Malik likes to explore Altaïr’s body. He’s seen it many times over the years, but hardly ever in quite the lazy, explorative way he favored. It was rare for Altaïr to let him press him back against the cushions and trace his body with his fingers and lips and tongue. Malik had mapped every scar on Altaïr’s body, knew which spots would cause pain and which pleasure, and Altaïr’s familiar taste was forever burned into his memory.
He likes to leave trails of kisses down his broad chest, feeling the muscles clench in anticipation under his deft fingers. Fingers traced over scars, some old, some new, before he placed a gentle kiss over each one of them. Altaïr watches him lazily, sometimes content, sometimes anxious. For now, he’s calm, and Malik counts this as a blessing as he continues farther down the other male’s body.
He shifts their positions so he sits between Altaïr’s legs, kneading the assassin’s thighs gently with his knuckles. Altaïr makes a sound - something pleased and startled and wanting- and Malik takes this as a sign to continue. The muscles are tense under his fingers, but Malik hadn’t intended for this to be a massage so he stops his kneading to rest his hand flat.
He’s whispering something against Altaïr’s stomach as he nuzzles gently, he isn’t entirely sure what, but he can hear Altaïr’s sharp intake of breath as he does so. Gently, he kisses the taut muscles before licking a line down to his bellybutton. Altaïr actually jerks against him, and Malik hesitates, looking up.
“Don’t,” Altaïr warns, but Malik ignores him because turnabout is fair play and he licks at the other male’s bellybutton teasingly. Altaïr makes a sound, something pleased and stressed, and Malik nips gently causing the other to squirm under him. “I hate you,” Altaïr moans as Malik continues teasing with his tongue.
Malik isn’t sure how he had missed this before, this spot, but he isn’t complaining now. Not when Altaïr’s fingers tangle into his hair and he continues to make those sounds. He’s never heard Altaïr quite like this before and the sound is going straight to his groin. Which reminds Malik there was a point to this in the first place, and he palms Altaïr’s cock through his leggings.
Altaïr bucks against him as Malik takes him into his hand, working his shaft while he continues to nip at and around the bellybutton. He can’t pin Altaïr down, not in this position, but if he continues to pant and moan under him, Malik isn’t sure he has any right to complain. If nothing else, he knows now he has a new weapon against the spiteful assassin and that alone makes it worth it.
Not that Malik would ever admit to taking advantage of Altaïr. He doubted anyone would believe him anyways with Altaïr’s reputation for being what it was. He’s lost his train of thought again, dazed out, and if Altaïr’s keening sounds of displeasure - Malik would never call it a whimper, he wouldn’t live to see another day - are any clue, the assassin has definitely noticed as well.
“Malik,” Altaïr says with a sharp exhale of breath. It isn’t begging, not coming from him, never. He’s making it too easy for Malik to tease him though and for once Malik can’t bring himself to act upon these easy openings.
“Shut up,” Malik says instead, rubbing his stubble across the sensitive flesh of Altaïr’s stomach to hear the myriad of sounds spilling from the other’s lips. For such a quiet man he could be surprisingly vocal.
Malik pressed his tongue into Altaïr’s bellybutton one last time, swirling his tongue and nipping at the tender flesh, enjoying the feeling of Altaïr squirming beneath him. He placed one more gentle kiss before trailing his lips farther down still. Altaïr’s hazed eyes were watching him intently, fingers curling tighter into his hair, almost painfully so.
Without hesitation, he let his tongue flick over the tip of Altaïr’s cock, grinning as Altaïr bucked up against him. Letting go of his cock to press his hand to Altaïr’s hip, stilling him, Malik curled his fingers tightly against the sharp bone. Another sound passed Altaïr’s lips, something almost pleading, and Malik didn’t waste any more time before taking the tip of his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue.
More sounds - pleasure, frustration, want. Altaïr tried to buck again but Malik’s grip was too tight. Not feeling particularly spiteful, not today anyways, Malik hollowed his cheeks as he slid further down Altaïr’s length, sucking lazily as he did so. Altaïr jerks Malik’s head back, watching as he worried at his lower lip, and Malik’s too content to care for his rough treatment.
Pressing his tongue tightly to the underside of Altaïr’s shaft, he can feel the veins pulsing against him, and he pulls back, freeing more of Altaïr’s length from his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the tip again, kissing it gently, ignoring the bitter leak of pre-cum. Again he slides the cock into his mouth, further this time.
Malik’s in no rush to get this over with, but if the almost painful grip in his hair is any indication, Altaïr feels the exact opposite. So he lets go Altaïr’s hip to tease the remainder of the other’s cock, fingers stroking quickly and in time to the bobbing of his head. His jaw is starting to ache and he’s relieved when Altaïr finally comes, hard, almost choking Malik in the process, with only one last buck of his hips and a shuddered gasp to warn.
Altaïr offers no apologies when Malik sits back to wipe his mouth irritably, resisting the urge to spit on the fine pillows. Instead Altaïr grabs him by the front of his robes and pulls him forwards, pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss as his hand snakes down to jerk off Malik quickly. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t fight it and lets Altaïr kiss at his jaw and neck lazily as he props himself with an arm around Altaïr’s neck.
His breathing is erratic as he nears his own orgasm, something that brings a smirk to Altaïr’s face. When he does come, he collapses boneless atop of Altaïr but the other male doesn’t complain, just places a surprisingly gentle kiss to Malik’s forehead.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Malik Al'Sayf x Altaïr ibn Al'Ahad
Warning(s): Adult situations, PWP
Spoiler(s): Not technically a spoiler, but directly referances this.
Prompt(s): Anon asked for "I'd like to see the reversal on the stump kink fic from page one. Malik gets his revenge and finds out Altair's chest is his weak point. Or, really, anywhere else would work. Whatever you like, writer anon." at forkinsocket's Assassin's Creed Kink Meme, found here.
Word Count: 1,057
Rants: First AC fic(let)! I'm too much of an attention whore to leave things anon, so I had to present here as well.
Disclaimer: Don't own Assassin's Creed, though if I did Desmond would spend more time half naked. Just saying.
Crossposted to: See Kink Meme above, here.
Malik likes to explore Altaïr’s body. He’s seen it many times over the years, but hardly ever in quite the lazy, explorative way he favored. It was rare for Altaïr to let him press him back against the cushions and trace his body with his fingers and lips and tongue. Malik had mapped every scar on Altaïr’s body, knew which spots would cause pain and which pleasure, and Altaïr’s familiar taste was forever burned into his memory.
He likes to leave trails of kisses down his broad chest, feeling the muscles clench in anticipation under his deft fingers. Fingers traced over scars, some old, some new, before he placed a gentle kiss over each one of them. Altaïr watches him lazily, sometimes content, sometimes anxious. For now, he’s calm, and Malik counts this as a blessing as he continues farther down the other male’s body.
He shifts their positions so he sits between Altaïr’s legs, kneading the assassin’s thighs gently with his knuckles. Altaïr makes a sound - something pleased and startled and wanting- and Malik takes this as a sign to continue. The muscles are tense under his fingers, but Malik hadn’t intended for this to be a massage so he stops his kneading to rest his hand flat.
He’s whispering something against Altaïr’s stomach as he nuzzles gently, he isn’t entirely sure what, but he can hear Altaïr’s sharp intake of breath as he does so. Gently, he kisses the taut muscles before licking a line down to his bellybutton. Altaïr actually jerks against him, and Malik hesitates, looking up.
“Don’t,” Altaïr warns, but Malik ignores him because turnabout is fair play and he licks at the other male’s bellybutton teasingly. Altaïr makes a sound, something pleased and stressed, and Malik nips gently causing the other to squirm under him. “I hate you,” Altaïr moans as Malik continues teasing with his tongue.
Malik isn’t sure how he had missed this before, this spot, but he isn’t complaining now. Not when Altaïr’s fingers tangle into his hair and he continues to make those sounds. He’s never heard Altaïr quite like this before and the sound is going straight to his groin. Which reminds Malik there was a point to this in the first place, and he palms Altaïr’s cock through his leggings.
Altaïr bucks against him as Malik takes him into his hand, working his shaft while he continues to nip at and around the bellybutton. He can’t pin Altaïr down, not in this position, but if he continues to pant and moan under him, Malik isn’t sure he has any right to complain. If nothing else, he knows now he has a new weapon against the spiteful assassin and that alone makes it worth it.
Not that Malik would ever admit to taking advantage of Altaïr. He doubted anyone would believe him anyways with Altaïr’s reputation for being what it was. He’s lost his train of thought again, dazed out, and if Altaïr’s keening sounds of displeasure - Malik would never call it a whimper, he wouldn’t live to see another day - are any clue, the assassin has definitely noticed as well.
“Malik,” Altaïr says with a sharp exhale of breath. It isn’t begging, not coming from him, never. He’s making it too easy for Malik to tease him though and for once Malik can’t bring himself to act upon these easy openings.
“Shut up,” Malik says instead, rubbing his stubble across the sensitive flesh of Altaïr’s stomach to hear the myriad of sounds spilling from the other’s lips. For such a quiet man he could be surprisingly vocal.
Malik pressed his tongue into Altaïr’s bellybutton one last time, swirling his tongue and nipping at the tender flesh, enjoying the feeling of Altaïr squirming beneath him. He placed one more gentle kiss before trailing his lips farther down still. Altaïr’s hazed eyes were watching him intently, fingers curling tighter into his hair, almost painfully so.
Without hesitation, he let his tongue flick over the tip of Altaïr’s cock, grinning as Altaïr bucked up against him. Letting go of his cock to press his hand to Altaïr’s hip, stilling him, Malik curled his fingers tightly against the sharp bone. Another sound passed Altaïr’s lips, something almost pleading, and Malik didn’t waste any more time before taking the tip of his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue.
More sounds - pleasure, frustration, want. Altaïr tried to buck again but Malik’s grip was too tight. Not feeling particularly spiteful, not today anyways, Malik hollowed his cheeks as he slid further down Altaïr’s length, sucking lazily as he did so. Altaïr jerks Malik’s head back, watching as he worried at his lower lip, and Malik’s too content to care for his rough treatment.
Pressing his tongue tightly to the underside of Altaïr’s shaft, he can feel the veins pulsing against him, and he pulls back, freeing more of Altaïr’s length from his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the tip again, kissing it gently, ignoring the bitter leak of pre-cum. Again he slides the cock into his mouth, further this time.
Malik’s in no rush to get this over with, but if the almost painful grip in his hair is any indication, Altaïr feels the exact opposite. So he lets go Altaïr’s hip to tease the remainder of the other’s cock, fingers stroking quickly and in time to the bobbing of his head. His jaw is starting to ache and he’s relieved when Altaïr finally comes, hard, almost choking Malik in the process, with only one last buck of his hips and a shuddered gasp to warn.
Altaïr offers no apologies when Malik sits back to wipe his mouth irritably, resisting the urge to spit on the fine pillows. Instead Altaïr grabs him by the front of his robes and pulls him forwards, pressing their lips together in a desperate kiss as his hand snakes down to jerk off Malik quickly. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t fight it and lets Altaïr kiss at his jaw and neck lazily as he props himself with an arm around Altaïr’s neck.
His breathing is erratic as he nears his own orgasm, something that brings a smirk to Altaïr’s face. When he does come, he collapses boneless atop of Altaïr but the other male doesn’t complain, just places a surprisingly gentle kiss to Malik’s forehead.