Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7596229.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Assassin's_Creed
  Relationship:
      Kadar_Al-Sayf/Malik_Al-Sayf, Kadar_Al-Sayf/Malik_Al-Sayf/Altaïr_Ibn-
      La'Ahad
  Character:
      Kadar_Al-Sayf, Malik_Al-Sayf, Altaïr_Ibn-La'Ahad
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent
  Series:
      Part 1 of Assassin's_Creed_Kink_Meme_Fills
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-05-04 Words: 2674
****** Training ******
by Ekala
Summary
     "Altaïr had been training his brother again." De-anon from the
     (original?) Assassin's Creed Kink Meme.
Notes
     Presented unedited, for archival purposes only.
     Also: whoever left that polar bear on viagra comment? I just want you
     to know that I have never, ever forgotten that comment.
Altaïr had been training his brother again.
It wasn't that Malik worried. He simply did not trust the other, not with his
brother, and not while he was off on a mission. Altaïr was an excellent
assassin, and Malik was sure the training was good, but he didn't want any of
Altaïr's arrogance to rub off on Kadar.
As he walked into his brother's room, however, he found that that was the least
of his problems.
Kadar was flushed, panting, one hand on his chest and the other on his cock.
Malik watched as he arched off the bed, gasping with pleasure. His immediate
reaction was that Altaïr must have done something. His brother was still a
child, and -- and he shuddered, moaning softly as his hands moved quickly, and
perhaps he was not as much of a child as Malik thought.
Realizing he was staring, he cleared his throat unceremoniously. Kadar suddenly
looked up, flush turning to a full-on blush as he scrambled to cover himself.
"B-brother, when did you, h-how did..." He trailed off, looking away, fully
embarrassed.
"Did Altaïr do this?" His eyes trailed over Kadar's chest, drinking in--
evaluating him for injuries before he snapped them back up to Kadar's face. The
boy was looking at him now, eyes wide.
"N, no," he stuttered after a moment, blushing brightly again. Malik raised a
brow, looking unconvinced. Kadar looked away again, muttering. "Well, it's not
his fault, I just... find him a-attractive, and he was so close all day, and I
haven't--" Malik surprised himself by cutting him off with a gentle finger
against his mouth, leaning in close. He felt as if possessed as he continued,
denying that any of this was his will.
"I will... help. In return, you are never to take his lessons again." Kadar
started to protest, cut off by his brother's lips, chapped and rough against
his own. Malik slowly explored Kadar's mouth, enjoying this as fully as any
other partner he'd ever had. He was soft and pliable against him, all smooth
skin against rough calluses. The boy tensed and moaned as Malik took him into
his hand, hips shuddering and hand clutching at his shoulders. Malik broke the
kiss, slowly, watching the flush on his brother's cheek and the daze in his
eyes as he whispered to him.
"Have you...?" Kadar shook his head, trying to buck his hips into Malik's hand
and whimpering at the loss of movement.
"Please," and Malik was suddenly struck by desire, by the sound of his own
brother's voice pleading for him, wanton and open. "Please, brother, I--" He
was cut off once more by his brother's lips, moaning again into his mouth. He
arched up, pushing against the rough fabric of his uniform. Malik took him back
into his hand, starting gently but twisting and tightening as Kadar whined in
his grip. He moved quickly, wanting to give his brother what he wanted, what he
was begging for. With one last cry muffled against his shoulder, Kadar
shuddered and thrust into his hand, heat splattering against both of them.
Malik stared at the white on his hand, somehow not completely mortified with
what he had just done.
But that was before Kadar looked at him again, with those eyes full of lust,
and told him it was his turn.
--
Malik tried to tell him no, to command him if needed, but by the time his mouth
had caught up to his thoughts, Kadar had already slid down his body, pressing
his nose into the bulge in his pants and breathing and Malik couldn't help but
growl, tangling his fingers in his brother's hair. He was too busy paying
attention to the hot lips mouthing him that he didn't notice his belt until it
was gone, as Kadar slipped a hand beneath garments and gently pulled him free.
Kadar marveled in it, the way it twitched as he touched it, stroked it, his
brother's breathy gasps and throaty growls. He leaned forward, licking a bit of
wetness from its tip, heart pounding as Malik moaned and hands tightened in his
hair. Slowly, he explored the entire member with his tongue, mapping every inch
before taking the tip into his mouth. Malik was barely able to keep himself
from moving as Kadar sucked lightly, gasping encouragement and wondering,
somewhere in his head, why he was so inexplicably turned on.
Perhaps it was because his own brother was slowly swallowing more of his cock
in that deliciously hot mouth of his.
Malik never bothered to figure it out.
Instead he watched as inch by inch he slowly slid in and out of Kadar's lips,
swollen and red and slick and perfect. He growled as the younger flicked his
tongue over the underside, unable to stop himself from bucking shallowly. It
was nearly too much already, with his brother, and it had been too long, and
Kadar was moaning around him and this time he bucked harder, eyes screwing
shut.
"Kadar, I cannot--" But the gasped words only elicited another moan from Kadar,
sucking the tip hard and wrapping a hand around him to squeeze what felt like
his life out of him.
That was about the point Altaïr walked in.
He watched--gaped--as Malik moaned, throwing his head back and digging his
fingers into Kadar's scalp as he released into his mouth, Kadar catching most
of it but flecks still dribbling onto his face. Altaïr smirked as Kadar slid
back up his brother's body to kiss him, recieving a gentle return.
"And no one invited me?"
The looks on their faces were two that Altaïr was sure he'd never forget.
--
Malik's anger was well-justified, Altaïr thought, as the man hurriedly pinned
him against the wall. He was snarling, he noted, looking for all the world like
a mad cat. It was almost endearing.
"Now, Malik, don't be like that." His voice slipped into a whisper, infuriating
grin still splitting his face. "I saw how much you like fucking your
brother..." The expected momentary slip in Malik's defenses allowed Altaïr to
flip him over and pin him face-first to the wall, arms behind his back. He
leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I can't blame you. He's certainly
tempting." Malik struggled underneath him, growling.
"Let me go, you bastard!" Altaïr just laughed, twisting his arm harder and
gaining a groan of pain for his trouble. He deftly tied Malik's hands together
with his own robes, nipping his ear as he hooked him around one of the rings on
the wall, kept there in case extra rooms needed to house prisoners. Malik
growled again, trying to lash out at him, but the knots were solid. Altaïr
patted his cheek, chuckling.
"Now... just enjoy the show." Malik just growled lowly again as Altaïr strode
back over to his brother. Perhaps this was what he deserved for what he had
just done, he thought, frowning.
 
"Look at me." Kadar turned around, slowly, still blushing and averting his
eyes. Altaïr almost purred at the look on his face, still flecked with his
brother's semen. He smoothed his hand over one cheek, tilting his head up a bit
so he could lap at Malik's remnants. "You're beautiful." Kadar's eyes widened,
mouth opening to say something but he was cut off by Altaïr's lips, hot and
demanding against his own. He groaned, arching up into the kiss, losing himself
again in desire. Altaïr slipped his hands down across bare back, murmuring
against his lips.
"You love your brother, don't you?" Kadar nodded, whimpering. "You love having
him." A shiver, hot breath across his lips. "You want more." Wide eyes,
questioning and open, until a questing hand nudged between his cheeks, pressing
against his entrance lightly. Then he shuddered again, whispering hoarsely.
"How...? It's such a... sh-shameful place." Altaïr purred at the new blush
spread across those cheeks, pressing in his finger a bit just to hear him
squeak.
"I'll teach you. I'll teach you how to take in your brother's cock so deep you
forget to breathe, that you can feel him thrusting into your core and get
overtaken by the pleasure of being his bitch." Kadar's breath hitched as he
pushed back against Altaïr's hand, moaning loudly enough to startle both of the
other men. A dark smirk stretched across his face as he whispered his next
order.
"All fours, on the bed. Face him." There was still hesitation in the action, so
Altaïr drew him close again, growling. "Now."
--
Kadar did as he was told, getting on all fours. Altaïr wasn't quite satisfied
and guided him to his elbows and knees, spreading his legs so that his ass was
thrust wantonly into the air. He smirked, patting it lightly.
"Good boy." Kadar was bright red, trembling slightly, eyes squeezed shut. Malik
growled, pulling against his restraints again, trying to help him. Altaïr
laughed at him, watching his angry reaction carefully as he leaned over and
nipped at Kadar's ear, eliciting a strained groan from the boy. He backed off
momentarily, a quick rummage through the cabinet yielding the salve he knew
he'd need for the rest of his plan.
Settling himself back down behind Kadar, he observed the sight in front of him.
Kadar had stayed just as Altaïr had arranged him, spread high in the air, his
once-again half-hard dick bobbing between his legs. Beyond the curve of his
back he could see Malik, still outraged, but now the flush of arousal was
beginning to creep back into his cheeks.
He couldn't have planned it better.
"Ready, Kadar." Another order, not a question. The boy was tense, but he let
out a sigh of breath and relaxed back into Altaïr's hands as he gently spread
his cheeks. Altaïr watches the pucker for a moment, not particularly beautiful
but as virginally innocent as the rest of him had been not long ago. He
smirked, blowing a bit of hot air across it just to watch him squirm. He left
one hand spreading Kadar open as he coated the other's fingers with salve. He
spread the mixture around Kadar's entrance, tsking as he gasped and pushed back
upon his hand.
"Patience, novice. Soon enough you will have what you want." Slowly, carefully,
he slid one finger in. Kadar groaned, fisting his hands in the rough sheets.
"Speak if it hurts." He pushed in to the second knuckle, rewarded with a hiss,
and another growl from Malik. Altaïr watched the man across the room as he
pressed the rest of his finger up into his brother, reveling in the anger on
his face as much as the arousal. After a minute he began shallowly thrusting
his finger into the tight heat, loosening it slowly as the boy beneath him
gasped and groaned. As soon as he began thrusting back against it, he added
another, going as slowly and carefully as he could.
Kadar was slowly going mad with desire once more, fingers tangled with the
sheets and toes curled as Altaïr prepared him. His breath had quickened to
pants, flush spread to his ears, eyes still screwed shut. Malik had ceased
resisting, treating this as his punishment, unable to tear his eyes away. He
was unable to even be angry at Altaïr, though he still fairly firmly believed
that this was all his fault in the first place, for being the most insufferable
asshole in the entire Creed. But he couldn't blame him, when he moved his
fingers and made Kadar's breath hitch and his body to push back as he whined
like a bitch in heat.
Altaïr had moved his unoccupied hand to Kadar's hip, holding him firmly and
preventing him from bucking back onto his (now three) fingers. It was almost
time and he didn't want the boy being premature, after all this work. He
removed his hand slowly, teasingly, Kadar moaning underneath him and beginning
to shake again. His hole was now stretched, shuddering, twitching, begging for
more. Altaïr's work was done. He stood again, urging Kadar up and over to
Malik, tied against the wall. The man's face as he realized what Altaïr was
going to do was absolutely priceless. What had he thought was going to happen?
"Now, Kadar. Take what you want." The boy blinked blearily at his brother,
biting his lip as he looked at the renewed erection between his legs. He
straddled Malik's hips, rubbing down against it without taking it in, moaning
sharply at the new heat against him. Altaïr watched, smirking, reaching out to
stroke Malik's cock as he guided it to Kadar's entrance. Kadar, completely of
his own accord, started to press down on it, suddenly taking in the head and
moaning, throwing his head back and shuddering. Malik responded in kind,
groaning as his brother's hot heat surrounded him.
Altaïr sat back to watch the show, pulling his own dick out and stroking it
roughly. This had all gone just as he planned: perfectly.
--
Kadar slowly slid further down, taking more of Malik in as the other man grit
his teeth and tried to keep himself still. Altaïr laughed breathlessly.
"Feels good, doesn't it, Kadar? Feeling him inside you, stretching and pushing
and filling you..." Kadar moaned again, hands grasping at Malik's shoulders,
hips jerking lightly. He suddenly pushed himself the rest of the way, sitting
fully on Malik's cock and gasping half in pain, half in pleasure. Malik
groaned, body tensing as it tried to rock into the willing boy, all logic far
gone with the unbearably tight heat surrounding him. After a long minute, Kadar
shakily began moving, groaning sharply as he felt Malik move inside him.
"Brother..." He pushed back down, harder than before, toes curling and back
arching, voice gasping. "Please, ah, mm, more..." And again, moving faster,
Malik growling as he bucked into him. Altaïr watched the slide of it, in and
out and slick and hot and dirty, perfect in all its imperfection. His hand
matched Kadar's motion along his own dick, voice low and rumbling.
"Faster, Kadar. Take all of it. Take it." Kadar threw his head back, keening,
body rippling with pleasure as he thrust himself down harder and faster and
more more more. Malik gasped against him, head hanging limply against his
chest, hips matching the rhythm best they could. Altaïr was suddenly there,
pressing up against Kadar's back, hot and strong and hard, another slick dirty
slide across his back, breath across his shoulder, hand wrapping around his
cock and Kadar convulsed, voice dying as he opened his mouth in a silent
scream, coming violently between them. Malik was not far behind, the extra
clench of tightness around him sending him over the edge. Altaïr moved again,
standing and twisting a hand in Malik's hair to wrench his face up, growling
viciously as he released himself across it.
They all stood still for a moment, caught between pleasure and exhaustion.
Kadar moved first, lifting himself just enough to taste his master against his
brother's skin. Malik remained still, not willing to deseat his brother yet,
but Altaïr chuckled lightly and began to pull them away from each other.
"You can have me later." Kadar fell into his arms bonelessly, gasping hoarsely
as Malik slipped out of him, allowing himself to be carried back to the bed and
tucked in like a child. Sleep took him quickly, body well past its limits.
Altaïr turned back to Malik, laughing darkly again.
"You look like a used whore." Malik growled, but did not move. He too was
lethargic, limbs heavy from pleasure. Altaïr began to untie him.
"You... asshole. I'll get you back for this." Altaïr laughed, finishing the
last knot, letting Malik's arms fall to his side.
"Once you recover, I'm sure." Malik began to snap back, but his words were cut
off by a demanding mouth against his, possessive and hard, all teeth and
tongue. He was left breathless, staring at the younger assassin. Altaïr smiled
cheekily.
"I'll be looking forward to it."
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