Altaïr was covered in a sheen of sweat beneath the heavy material of his assassin's robes. The moment his feet hit the ground before the bureau in Jerusalem his motivation leapt and crashed. He'd have to climb once more in the gruelling heat. But after that, he could rest. That is, if Malik did not order him out like last time. Why did the sun have to be so tortiously slow at burning him to death as he climbed?
Altaïr dropped from the grating and dipped a hand in the fountain. He splashed his face clean, uncomfortable and wishing nothing more than to escape the heat. Escape the sun and everything else. But he could not spend all day over the sun-warmed water.
He pulled out a feather stained in red and placed it on the counter inside the room. There it was more humid but not as hot, and Altaïr fought the urge not to pant.
"The target has been dealt with."
You glanced up from your scroll on the desk, your own face slightly pink tinged. Altaïr dismissed it in his mind as the weather as he glanced around under his hood, trying to look into the back rooms for Malik.
"Well done. You may return to Masyaf then, a pigeon came ordering your departure an hour ago. It seems as though you are greatly missed, but feel free to rest before your journey."
You seemed nicer than Malik in your job, and Altaïr nodded his understanding. He walked back under the sun then stripped off his outer robe. He draped it on the edge of the fountain as he peeled off some of his other layers. He sat down on the pillows, the amount less than usual. He stretched, raising his back and arching it. He used his teeth and fingers to loosen the straps which held his hidden blade against his inner forearm.
He then placed his head back against a pillow and closed his eyes, upper body bare to the world. He had been running around like a slave to the Mentor the last few weeks, he needed the sleep.
"Malik, go back to sleep."
Malik's eyes opened slightly, his vision blurry but the familiar colour of robes letting him guess who it was. He could heavily smell the incense, a stick between ink-stained fingers. Malik felt a cloth with cool water wipe the sweat from his brow then face. It went lower, to his shoulders to chest. When it passed his wounded shoulder he gave a whimper more from emotions than pain, eyes opened slightly more.
Something dampened his lips and he tasted some wine mixed with the water. He was taunted back to sleep in the most luxurious of ways, and he gave a minuscule smile as he rolled over on the pillows borrowed from the entry room. The pain in his shoulder was forgotten. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep behind the counter, his own clothes partially undone from the heat. It was indeed a delectable sight.
You sketched the final tower in Jerusalem on one of Malik's maps as you heard the alarm. You uttered a sigh, looking down upon where Malik laid, his breathing deep from the humidity. He tossed at the sound, shifting until a pillow fell on his face to muffle the sounds. He then stopped moving, content.
You wiped your hands free of ink and went outside, balancing on the top of the fountain to move the grating to cover the opening. Usually, it was Malik's job, and you struggled slightly with it. You heard a light tap and lowered your gaze to see Altair balancing perfectly on the fountain on one foot.
"Care to help?"
The man said nothing as he reached above your head and put his fingers through the grating. With a strong pull he leaned against you and the grating fell into place. Your breathing stopped for a moment, making a slight hitching effect as you felt his chest pressed against your back. You heard the sound of him going back on the ground and you watched him head towards the entrance to the bureau's main room.
He turned at you beckoning him, unlike all the times he ignored people. You gave a small smile, teasing him, as you held out your hand. Instead of him taking it, he put both of his hands on your hips and lifted you to the ground.
"I suppose you do know how act with ladies, Altaïr."
The assassin didn't heed your words and left back into the main room, fingers lingering only seconds more than what was needed. You picked up a few more pillows and tossed them next to Malik behind the desk.
"You can go back to your nap. I'll keep guard."
After a few long minutes Altaïr accepted your offer, only after moving the pillows a few feet away from Malik. You sat on the edge of the desk, watching them both sleep for the little while it took to declare them absolutely handsome. And they were both laying before you.
You heard your name murmured deeply and you stepped out of a back room to see who called it. What you found was rather... interesting.
Malik and Altaïr were intertwined, hands in hair and on bare flesh. Altaïr was the one who spoke, arms around the smaller body and being mistaken in his sleep on identity of that person. Malik didn't notice until Altaïr pulled lightly on his hair. Malik then groaned your name, tossing again in his usual way of sleep.
You were almost in a state of shock from what you heard. Both men clearly wanted you and yet they clung to each other. In retrospect, it could be seen as amusing and funny. But to you, it was daunting. If they woke up, they'd kill each other.
Altaïr's eyes opened at Malik's groan and he flicked his wrist in the way for his hidden blade to come out. It was no longer hidden and Malik woke up to something cold and sharp against his throat. Unfazed, Malik took out a dagger he kept in his robes and pressed it above Altaïr's heart. Malik drew a thin line of blood that your eyes followed, tracing down the muscles of the assassin.
Altaïr didn't budge from the pain but did tilt his head to see you better. Malik followed the gaze and paled slightly as Altaïr swallowed deeply.
"You caught us in a bad time-"
You shook your head to silence both of them as you kneeled beside the duo.
"If you were so desperate to have me with you, you could have asked."
"We shouldn't though-"
You shushed Malik's concerns with a finger to his lips.
"Everything is permitted."
And for once, Altaïr was in complete obedience over the rules.