Chapter Text
“For the last time, Altaïr, quit calling it a date!”
“It’s just you and me, going out together, alone, shopping. I call that a date.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes as I put the last of my things into a knapsack. Ever since I asked him to go to the market with me that morning he was giddily calling it our “first date.” I had only asked him since he had spent the night, not to mention it was his fault I had to go shopping in the first place.
“This is hardly a date. We are replacing my ink that- need I remind you- you spilled.”
Altaïr pouted. “It’s not like I meant to. I was more focused on… other things.”
He grinned and snaked his arm around my waist, which I slapped away. Our newly redefined relationship was still fresh and affectionate gestures were still foreign, but the banter between friends was not.
I still felt like I was floating on air, and the confessions from a few nights ago seemed like a dream. I had yet to properly respond to Altaïr’s serious 'I love you,' but that didn’t matter to him. I had said it in my own way which was good enough for the both of us. Although I didn’t dare utter the word ‘lovers’ for fear he might explode. Seemingly every affection or acknowledgment I gave him made him overcome with joy.
“Come on then. We should hurry up while it’s still early morning,” I finally said, tucking my bag under my arm. He nodded and eagerly tagged along behind me.
///
There was a thin crowd in the marketplace as I inspected the wares at a stall. I was waiting on the seller to wrap up the bottles of ink, which he did so after begrudgingly accepting my offer of almost half of what he was selling them for. I haggled with him all the time, but he did have the best ink. Altaïr was leaning against the stall's support beam, busying himself by communicating his boredom to me through a complex series of sighs, foot-taps, nudges, and whines.
“I should have stayed in bed. This is so uninteresting,” he complained.
“I hold no sympathy for you,” I muttered, preoccupied with an ornate vial. He gave me a withering look, which I ignored. He shrugged in surrender and straightened, brushing off his robes.
“I’m going to get us breakfast. Do you want anything in particular?”
“Whatever you grab is fine.”
Altaïr walked past me, subtly brushing my hand as he went. I shot him a look, both of appreciation and warning, which he smiled at. Soon he disappeared around a corner, just in time for the shopkeeper to hand me my purchase. I had hoped to make Altaïr pay for it with his own money, but bringing me a meal would suffice. Then again, the last time he surprised me with food I ended up hot and bothered for the rest of the day. Hopefully this time he would get it from an actual merchant.
Since he would be returning soon anyway, I loitered around the stalls, peering at the interesting items. This early in the morning there weren’t too many open so it became boring quickly. Just as I was about to follow the road Altaïr had taken to see if I could catch up I spotted a scantily clad woman slinking towards me.
She had bags under her eyes, her chestnut-colored hair stuck out around her head, and her worn out clothes were covered in dark stains. It looked like she didn’t want to be awake any more than Altaïr had, if not less so. Like an idiot I stood there and waited for her, perhaps because I was interested as to how a woman so tired could still be standing, or perhaps because I had nothing better to do. When she reached me she leaned heavily against a wall, but still managed to pull her lips into a seductive smile.
“Well hello there, handsome,” she cooed. “What has you out and about so early in the morning?”
I snorted. “I could ask the same of you. Shouldn’t you be out in the afternoon, when there are more potential customers?”
She frowned. “A girl’s gotta eat, mister.” Like flipping a switch, her smile returned and she batted her eyes. “What do you say? Want some breakfast?” She punctuated the question with a suggestive wiggle of her hips.
I was about to turn her down when Altaïr rounded the corner, almost bumping into us.
“Ah, Malik! I found some weird fruit this guy in an alley was selling and I thought we could share- oh, hello again.” Altaïr suddenly noticed the prostitute and inclined his head in recognition. I could feel a headache coming on as I looked from him to the surprised woman.
“O-oh, hello!” She put a hand to her chest and smiled. “You’re that dashing fellow who runs by my street all the time. Did you enjoy the food I gave you?”
My jaw dropped. She was the one who gave him that cursed food!? I fumed. Before I could say anything Altaïr spoke up.
“Yes, it was delicious. Thank you.”
The harlot appeared a little confused, more so than I was, but nodded anyway. Altaïr seemed to sense my mounting anger, since he placed a hand on my shoulder and began gently yet forcefully guiding me away.
“Sorry to go so soon, but we should be on our way. Goodbye,” he stated amicably and turned to lead me quickly through the streets, not even sparing a glance back to watch her bid us farewell, still in a state of confusion.
Once we were back in the bureau I carefully set my new ink on the counter then swiveled on Altaïr. He backed up, hands in the air.
“Now Malik, calm down. I didn’t know we would run into her.” He offered up the fruit he bought, and when I still marched furiously toward him, he pocketed it for later. “It’s not like she did it to be mean! She didn’t even know you were the one who ended up eating it.”
I grabbed ahold of his collar as he continued stepping backward. His back hit the wall and he nervously placed his hands over my fist. “I never even slept with her, or any prostitute for that matter! Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Idiot,” I growled. “Who said I was mad at you?”
He blinked. “But-“
I cut him off by kissing him aggressively. I took advantage of his surprise and slipped my tongue inside. He seemed to get the gist of it at that point and returned the favor. One hand slipped from mine to cup my face, and the other wandered down my arm to my back. I bit his lip and tugged on his collar, to which he pulled me flush against his chest. Pressed against each other like this I melted. The warmth had me relaxing into him and the anger started to seep away. I smiled against his lips and slowed down to caress them softly, enjoying the feel of him. Unclenching my fist from his robes, I brought my hand to the nape of his neck and ran my fingers through the short hair there. He hummed appreciatively while rubbing small circles into my back with his thumb.
Feeling satisfied, I drew back. Altaïr opened his eyes, still very bewildered but pleased.
“What was that for and how do I make it happen again?”
“Tch.” I slapped him lightly upside his head and walked behind the counter, feeling much more at ease. “It was nothing you did, idiot.”
He followed me while rubbing the back of his head. I busied myself with carefully setting the new ink in a box underneath the counter, where they would be less likely to get broken or spilled. He patiently waited in silence, which was new for him. I sighed and sneered at the air.
“Seeing that prostitute pissed me off. She tried drugging you to get you to sleep with her, and I was the one who ended up in a huge mess for it!”
Altaïr shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it wouldn't have made me want her anyway…”
I resisted the urge to hit him again and instead glared while pulling out a half-finished map. “Regardless, she had malicious intentions and her actions caused us both to suffer. She wanted to sleep with you bad enough to drug you even though she is…” I took a breath to calm down. “The point is I do not like her. Both for what she did and the reasons behind it.”
Altaïr smiled and strode behind me, encircling my waist with his arms. He rested his chin on my shoulder, giving my head a small nuzzle as he did so. “That is understandable. However you do know that no matter what that woman tries, or anyone for that matter, I will choose you a hundred times over?”
A dash of heat came to my cheeks at the cheesy words and I swatted him. “Yes, yes. I am preferable to a prostitute. I get it.” Before he could correct me I turned my head and placed a quick kiss on his jaw. “Now shoo. Al Mualim probably has a new mission for you, and you should leave before you get us both in trouble.”
“But Malik, I wish to stay here with you,” he whined and deliberately held me tighter, which caused some discomfort with my wounds. I frowned and tapped his arm. He realized what I meant fairly quickly and released his hold.
“No buts. I am still healing and you have work to do. Besides, if another assassin came in and saw you draping yourself all over me my reputation as an intimidating Rafiq would be ruined.”
He pouted, but reluctantly crossed his arms and agreed. He turned to leave, but suddenly swiveled on his heel and leaned forward with a cheeky grin. “Kiss goodbye?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No, novice.”
“Pretty please? I will not leave until you do.”
I rolled my eyes, although I sensed he was very likely to actually do so. “Fine,” I relented, then indulged him with a light peck. He was as pleased as a cat that had caught its prey, which was strangely endearing.
"One more."
"Leave, idiot."
He laughed and waltzed out the door. “I love you,” he called back.
“I don’t hate you,” I returned.