Archive of Our Own ^beta

The crisp morning air was filled with the unmistakable scent of citrus and pomegranate alongside a twinge of apricot. It flooded Malik's nose the second he woke, and he immediately feared he knew the cause. 

He cursed, resisting the urges that the overbearing smell sent to his core, lighting his senses afire. 

Stepping into Altaïr's room only made it more difficult to bear. The scent was more pungent there. Malik took a deep breath to steady himself, unwillingly letting in more of the desperate odour that bid him closer. He resisted it, despite himself, opting instead to stand in the doorway. 

The young omega was coated in sweat as though he had been tossing on his mattress the entire night. His blankets were kicked off him, and in his sleep, he was panting and whining. A clear sign of his discomfort. 

Malik frowned. He could not recall the last time Altaïr had a heat so strong. He had always assumed that he was fortunate to only suffer weak symptoms instead of being lost to the desperation that seemed to plague his biology. He seemed to work all the way through most seasons while others of his kind had to take regular leave in order to tend to their needs. But the sight before him told that he had clearly been mistaken. 

His instincts were shouting in his ears to join the omega where he lied, but the part of him that formed rational thought reminded him that Altaïr was not his mate. He had no claim over the man and had no right to welcome himself to his bed. 

But the pained whines ripping through Altaïr's throat tormented him. Even if he wasn't his mate, he still owed him the common courtesy of comfort in such a time. 

He cleared his throat of its constriction, bidding himself to speak clearly and with intention. 

"Altaïr," Malik said gently, causing nothing more than a stir. 

The scent in the air was intoxicating. 

He tried again, firmer this time. "Altaïr." 

And at that, the omega's eyes shot open with a gasp, landing on the alpha in his doorway. He was breathing frantically, taking in everything at once; between the temperature and need of his body and the scent of cinnamon mixing with his own, invading his space in the most welcome of ways. Although he wanted to be embarrassed, to tell Malik to leave him be, he couldn't help but feel relieved at the presence of an alpha in his room. His body reacted accordingly, against his will, sending out waves of pheromones in the air in his excitement. 

Malik furrowed his brow at the increased scent, doing his best to block it out so he could speak clearly. 

"Altaïr," he began, more to focus himself than to grab the omega's attention, "you're in heat." 

I know, Altaïr wanted to respond. Wanted to say something quick and witty and sarcastic. But he couldn't form any words. Not with the alpha standing over him. Not with a potential mate right there. 

Malik sighed, obeying his body for a moment only to take a step closer in an attempt to soothe himself. He sighed, refusing to look at his friend out of respect for his modesty. Not that he thought Altaïr would be embarrassed; they had grown up together and seen the worst of each other. But he knew that his friend wasn't in the right state of mind, and wanted to distance himself as much as possible from being a potential threat, like those alphas who seemed to display little to no control. 

"Why didn't you tell me this was going to happen?" he asked finally. 

And though his tone was gentle with not a touch of hostility behind it - only genuine inquiry - Altaïr lowered his head in fright, whining softly to himself. The sound said: don't be mad at me. 

After a moment of silence, Altaïr could feel his eyes watering as he replied, shakily, "I d-didn't know. I'm sorry." 

Malik hated seeing him, of all men, so vulnerable. A man who had killed so many and strategically put up boundaries so that he could not get hurt. A man who was now about to cry over something he perceived as disapproval from an alpha. Malik also hated the instinct that stirred in his gut that tried to convince him to protect. The images that conjured up of the countless others who would take advantage of this weakness to have their way with Altaïr. 

Then, despite his own will and what was probably the better course of action, he took a few more steps forward until he was right next to the mattress where Altaïr lied and crouched down. He also hated the hopeful gasp that the omega let out at the new proximity as he sat up in an attempt to be closer. 

"I'm not angry with you," Malik assured. It granted him a sob of relief, which he was very grateful to receive. "Now tell me: what's going on?" 

So much, Altaïr wanted to say. He wanted to tell him of it all, but the scent of almond and clove with just a hint of musk debilitated him to a greater point than he could ever recall. It filled each nerve with want and hunger. Lovely jolts of pleasure and desperation sent shivers through him. And when Malik absentmindedly brought his hand around Altaïr's back in an act of comfort, the omega gasped and swooned at the contact. Whatever he had worked himself up to say was lost in the moment. 

"Malik," he whined, almost pleadingly, "I... I-I..." 

The alpha felt as though he knew what he was going to say from the increased scent in the air, but didn't interrupt just yet. Only caressed the sweat-drenched fabric that clung to his frame. 

And that was when Altaïr lost all his control. He shuddered with a heaving breath, doing his best to restrain himself as he asked, "Malik, please. I-I need..." 

What he was asking was interrupted by a soft shushing from the alpha, who then charged him to, "Speak sense, Altaïr." Then, "Breathe." 

The omega followed the order diligently, not wanting to make an even greater fool of himself. The oxygen came with a hint of nutmeg, and while it served to tempt him further, also acted as a calming agent. He released the breath slowly, looking back up at Malik and apologising quickly, already seeming more like himself. 

"I didn't know when I would be in season next," he explained, trying to pry his way out of his pit of need and to think about anything but the calming yet tormenting hand on him. He continued, "If I had known, I would have told you. Or have gone away to deal with it." 

Malik hummed in understanding, then asked gently, "When was your last?" 

Altaïr's eyes squinted unwillingly. He looked away as he answered, "I haven't had a proper heat in years." 

The alpha tilted his head in an attempt to process what he heard. The knowledge suddenly lined up with any assumptions that he made over the years of observing his friend, who was now turned away and burning red. 

"It's strange, I know."

Altaïr had always internalised this aspect of himself out of fear that it would make others see him as an unfit omega, an unfit mate. He already surpassed most of the world's expectations of his sex and lived a life identical to his "superior" colleagues. 

"You shouldn't be ashamed," Malik assured. "But, why do you think that is?" 

The omega sucked in a deep breath. He knew exactly why it was, or at least had an idea. Something to do with infertility being caused by stress in an omega's life and heats being caused by the presence of an alpha nearby. He was, however, unwilling to mention it to Malik out of fear, or perhaps out of self-preservation. 

Instead, he composed himself and opted for the answer, "I tend to focus on the brotherhood, on my work, and I think my body knows this." 

"I see..." 

There was silence in the room for just a moment, enough for the haze of Altaïr's mind to take over again. Need seeped into his entire being, every bone and joint. It took the most self-control he had ever demonstrated to not bend over at that moment and beg the alpha to take care of him. The reason why he didn't? Malik was his friend, not his mate, who he would have to live with even after his heat passed. He couldn't risk displaying his needs so openly, especially if he was to be shut down. 

After the quiet became unbearable, Altaïr pried himself away from Malik's touch and told him, "You should go." 

But he meant: stay. 

Malik stood aptly, not entirely ready to leave an omega displaying such need, but wanting to respect his friend's wishes. And in an attempt to be hospitable, without grasping the full weight of what he was saying, he asked, "Do you need anything more from me, Altaïr?" 

"No." The omega had to force the guttural word from his throat. 

But he wanted to say: yes. 

And the second Malik removed himself from the room, Altaïr discarded the bottom half of his outfit and touched his neglected self with vigor. The leftover scent of spices and nuts only served to elevate his arousal as he thrust upward into his palm, then back again onto the fingers in his slick-soaked opening. It took only a few minutes for him to finish but it wasn't enough. He was left overheated and panting, slipping into the warm darkness of sleep once again unsatisfied. 

The first day of heat was certainly the most difficult. It was full of discomfort and void of satisfaction. He spent the majority of the day sleeping, rutting against the pillows on his bed but only finding release a couple of times. He couldn't bring himself to move or leave his room and spent the whole day lying down, discarding of his shirt once he got too heated. 

He hadn't spent a previous heat with an alpha in such close proximity before. And the lingering scent of his housemate combined with the unfamiliar feeling of insatiable need he hadn't experienced in so long was absolutely torturous. How he wanted to crawl into Malik's room and beg for attention, but his own self-awareness wouldn't allow that even in his state. He would sooner suffer than swallow his own pride, and that would surely be his downfall. 

Altaïr turned in for a restless sleep late that night. He felt terrible. As if he couldn't get comfortable, no matter how much he tossed and turned around. He rearranged his cushions for the thousandth time before finally being able to find some appropriate rest with one in between his thigh for stimulation. 

The second day looked as if it would go a similar way. He ground up against his blankets and cushions in search of some sort of relief, but it all seemed hopeless. Even as he finished, it still wasn't enough, and that was when he started crying. He sobbed silently, about his loneliness and the pain and the frustration. About his missed heats and the scent of alpha that was fading from the room. About his life. He did this without uttering a sound, of course, because he was still a man and he was still a weapon at heart. Despite his pitiful state, and despite feeling like he was completely broken. 

He managed to get some more sleep in before sunset when he was awakened by a knock at the door. He couldn't bring himself to move or even answer the call aloud, so remained facing the wall on his side and sighed in relief once he heard it creak open. 

"Altaïr?" the alpha called. The scent of cinnamon and musk filled the room upon his entry, along with a natural scent of peppered meat and coriander. 

The omega couldn't bring himself to respond or move, as if the very idea of it was too overwhelming for him. Although, the return of his friend excited him very much, more than he would willingly admit. 

Malik approached him. "Aren't you hungry?" 

Altaïr growled at the nausea that filled him before shaking his head abrasively. The thought of food absolutely repulsed him. 

The alpha sighed, setting the plate on the ground before sitting cross-legged next to Altaïr's mattress. He had become accustomed to the faraway scent of the omega in heat, but being in the same room swelled instinct in his gut. But he was determined to keep his visit on track, knowing that Altaïr would need to eat soon. 

"You didn't have anything yesterday."

The omega finally rolled around onto his back, not completely facing his friend but not being as dismissive. Something in him perked up at their vicinity, as well as the strong scent of the alpha near him. His throat felt dry suddenly as he looked up at Malik's face, the perfect contours accentuated by the light of the dying sun. 

Something without a name compelled him to reach out to Malik, settling on the knee of one of his legs. He felt around a little, skin burning at the much-desired touch, before moving his grasp upwards to find his hand. Altaïr rolled onto his other side then took one of Malik's hands - they were huge, such a good fit - in both of his, and began playing with the comforting flesh there. Stretching it, caressing it, and just admiring it. Such a simple action seemed like heaven in his deprived state, and he was simply grateful that he was permitted to do so. 

Malik sighed, gaze drifting between the delirious omega below him and the plate of kibbeh he had just prepared. Despite the growing scent of need from his friend, he decided on redirecting the focus of his visit. 

He did this by asking a question that he already knew the answer to. 

"Do you want me to go?" 

Altaïr stopped his touches immediately and looked up to the alpha. He couldn't suppress the quiet noise from his throat: scared he did something wrong, scared that the alpha would leave him again. Desperately, he shook his head. Malik thought he saw tears in his eyes, and his heart painfully tugged at the idea. 

Then, Malik gestured to the plate of kibbeh. "If you eat, I'll stay with you for a little." 

The omega considered this greatly, fighting the instincts that told him food would only make him feel worse. He couldn't bring himself to reply; such a concept seemed too complex for the way his mind worked at that moment. Cogs turned in his head to try and find a way to compromise, to get him to stay without putting any food near his mouth, but he couldn't find a way. 

Apparently, he thought too slow. Because before he knew it, Malik was directing him to sit up, and pushing the plate into his lap. 

The sight of him made the alpha's skin crawl. He was in an awful state. Covered in sweat, visibly distressed and vulnerable. There were dark bags under his eyes that indicated he couldn't sleep, and his chest heaved with jagged, forced breaths like even that was a challenge. Even the way he sat - hunched over, staring vacantly at the plate in front of him - made a pang of guilt fill Malik's gut. Altaïr was not his mate, was not his to help. But he was all the omega had. Was it not his responsibility to look after him through this? Just as a friend would? How could he have let this omega get to this state? What kind of a person was he for neglecting him so? 

After a while of weighing the possibilities and suppressing the urge to vomit, Altaïr took one piece of kibbeh and delicately bit it. It was possibly the smallest mouthful one would be able to manage, but still, Altaïr weighed it on his tongue, chewing it excessively before swallowing it with a painful gag. 

Malik frowned but sought to make him feel a little better. "Good," he praised, before assuring that, "You only have to have a little. Stop eating when you feel you need to." 

Altaïr's eyes lit up at the praise, and he immediately put more into his mouth. He ate a few more pieces before deciding that he couldn't possibly have any more and discarded the plate to the side. He looked up to the alpha for approval, only to be met with a warm expression. 

"You did good, Altaïr," he said. 

And the omega let out a broken noise at this. He leaned forward to get closer, before getting a wave of the alpha's scent and inhaling sharply to take it in. 

"Malik..." 

He felt his friend's hand lift to cup his cheek. 

"Please don't leave," he whispered, eyes closed. 

"I won't." 

And that was all Altaïr needed before he laid down on Malik's lap facing the ceiling. He fit into him perfectly, like a key into a lock. From that position, he could get a stronger whiff of his scent and allowed himself to become consumed in it finally. It sent waves of comfort through his entire body, and he felt like for the first time in a while, he could properly relax. 

That was until Malik's skillful hands started to play with his hair. It was absentminded and innocent at first, but the continued ministrations only made Altaïr more desperate. Not frustrated anymore, but definitely like he needed something further. 

He squirmed at Malik's touch, unwillingly bucking his hips upwards into nothing. Then he was panting. 

"Malik... please." 

He didn't entirely know what he was asking for, and when Malik then returned by saying, "What do you need, Altaïr?" he let out a wanting whine. 

"I - I..." Altaïr lost all words for a moment when Malik's hands moved lower, now tracing lines over his clavicle and testing the muscular flesh on his chest. He collected himself, gaining the nerve to finally ask, "Malik, c-can I touch myself?" 

The alpha groaned at the idea, pulling Altaïr further into his lap so his naked back was now flush against his clothed chest. He shouldn't allow this, he knew, but this was the closest he'd allow himself to get to the omega without actually performing anything on him since he wasn't in a position to give consent. He let out a sound of approval, and that was when the omega lost all control. 

He struggled to pull his pants down as Malik held him close. The new position allowed the alpha to nuzzle into Altaïr's scent glands, where he found the most potent source of the citrus-pomegranate odour that he adored. The smell only grew stronger as Altaïr began rubbing himself at a reckless pace, bucking his hips to meet every stroke. 

Malik hummed, content at the situation as he felt Altaïr's breath becoming wilder and wilder. Then, he planted a promising kiss on the omega's neck, which sent sparks of pleasure coursing through him and increased his arousal tenfold. It only got more intense as Malik continued licking and nipping lightly on this area, feeling his way down Altaïr's chest and tracing a line down his abdomen. 

As the omega approached his release, Malik couldn't help but speak to him. 

"I should leave a mark here, don't you think?" he whispered teasingly in a low tone at the shell of Altaïr's ear. "So you don't forget this. So everyone knows your mine. Would you like that?" 

Almost on cue, Altaïr began moving wildly as his release sprayed all over himself and onto the mattress below him. He moaned loudly, body convulsing at the throws of pleasure. 

Malik admired every twitch, every contraction of muscle in the body against his. He slowed his touches, now holding him close and tight as a nonverbal reassurance. 

The alpha chuckled lowly. "I believe we have our answer." 

Altaïr, in what little self-awareness he had left, still possessed the capacity for embarrassment. 

They stayed like that while Altaïr caught his breath. Malik then maneuvred him to lay on the mattress again, the shattered omega willfully welcoming comfort's embrace. 

The omega soon started drifting to sleep, letting out soft snores as he began dozing off. Malik stood to leave, not realising that he would be disturbing this rest. 

"Malik?" he asked softly into the darkness. 

The alpha furrowed his brow and stopped in his tracks. "What's wrong?" 

Altaïr mewled softly. "Stay?" 

Malik frowned. "I can't," he said, because he did have to go attend to business in Masyaf, "but I have an idea." 

He shrugged the coat off his back, glad to have the coolness of the coming night settle on his sweat-soaked skin. Then, he laid the item of clothing down next to where Altaïr was sleeping. 

And the omega was stunned by this. He couldn't even bring himself to touch it at first. He just felt his heart drop at the knowledge of what had happened. 

"That's a terrible idea," Altaïr remarked in a state of sudden lucidness. 

Malik chuckled, before quipping, "You make awful decisions all the time. I thought I might try catching up to you." 

Instead of laughing, the omega finally reached out to grab the cloth and bury his nose in it, taking in all the undertones he had never smelt before, studying the scent. Soon, he had rolled over again, clinging onto the coat and holding it under his nose like a child would with their favourite toy. 

"Malik?" Altaïr prompted before the alpha left the room. 

"Yes?" 

"...Thank you." 

The alpha smiled, unseen, before leaving. 

The third day was incomparably better. The omega had managed to sleep through the entire night, only waking when he had to relieve himself, which was easier to endure with the comfort of Malik's coat. 

When the light of the morning graced his room, Altaïr felt a new spike of energy coming with his satisfaction. He looked around and realised what a mess he had made of the place and opted then to clean it. 

Well, "clean" would have been an overstatement: "rearrange" was probably a better fit. He scowered his room for anything soft, any old clothes and cushions and blankets that he could use, and added them atop his mattress. Intricately, he positioned them all for the utmost comfort, before finally being pleased once the mattress was surrounded by cushions and there were several layers of blankets to make it as soft as possible. The crowning touch was when he placed Malik's coat next to his sleeping pillow, then curled up next to it to bury his face in the scent. 

He had heard of other omegas doing a similar routine during their heats, normally before it got the worst of them. It was supposed to be a comfortable and safe place for an omega to spend their heat. 

Altaïr had just managed to drift back to sleep when his eyes opened to the sound of someone entering the room. It was Malik, of course, for who else would it be? He was carrying a plate of food and a jug of water with him. He didn't ask questions about the rearrangement, couldn't even seem to think of anything to say apart from a simple reminder to drink the water and eat food. 

The rest of the heat passed without much difficulty. Because it was Altaïr's first in a while, it proved to be rather short. He was almost entirely back to normal by the next day, with small traces of his scent remaining. 

Malik hadn't spoken to him much since their encounter. In fact, he seemed to find every opportunity he could to leave the house and seemed to avoid Altaïr at every turn. The omega was determined not to let that get to him, and despite the need he felt to reconcile the embarrassment and shame that remained from that week, he decided to distance himself as well. He focused on training. The week off of it had made him fall out of practice, if only slightly. The extra challenge of the tasks so ingrained in his muscle memory was a welcome change. His aching muscles worked as a helpful distraction to his spinning mind. 

Though, he couldn't block out all the thoughts. The ones that told him he had damaged their relationship past the point of repair. The ones that told him Malik was angry, even disgusted, at what he had done. But he seemed intent to right his wrongs and restore their friendship to the point it was before. 

A couple of days after his heat had ended, he went to the market. He stopped by at the apothecary and spice stand, collecting all types of ingredients he felt would be suitable. It was unlike him to do such a gesture, as he would normally leave tension to fester underneath the surface until it became intolerable. Something compelled him to act to fix it, however, and he suspected it was out of self-preservation, and perhaps even instinct. 

When he returned to their house, he set all the spices and ingredients he had bought out on a table as he awaited for Malik to arrive. And when he did, late in the afternoon, his eyes wandered over the table full of food and different spices. His heart swelled in appreciation of it all, and his stomach jumped in excitement at the flavours presented to him. 

"What is all this?" 

"I did this to thank you," the omega explained simply, standing before adding, "and also to apologise." 

"Apologise? What for?" 

Altaïr swallowed. "For putting you in such a... compromising situation. When I went into heat. It will not happen again." 

"Oh." 

Malik suddenly understood a great deal. Altaïr was embarrassed, ashamed, and certainly had a hard time processing what had happened. 

"Altaïr, while I appreciate this, I cannot accept your apology." 

The omega showed no emotion, but his heart dropped at that statement before Malik clarified. 

"I cannot accept it because you did nothing wrong. Your actions were not your own, and so I cannot find any fault in what you did. It was only a natural response to your situation." 

"You do not need to make excuses for me," the omega said after a short time. 

"But I'm not. I just want you to know that it did not bother me." 

Altaïr was going to argue back again; debunk his arguments in a flawless way. But his thoughts were deterred by a sudden scent of nutmeg and cinnamon that incapacitated his thoughts. It was much more potent than the alpha's usual scent and worked quickly to flood his senses. He wondered if it had been lingering in the room for the entire time and if he just hadn't noticed. 

He wasn't especially subtle when he realised that it was coming from Malik. His expression widened in a type of shock he rarely displayed but soon returned to the blank and unreadable stare he gave when he had something intentional he needed to say. 

The two made eye contact. Their combined gazes said more than their words ever had to each other, where Malik knew he had nowhere to hide behind and Altaïr had figured him out. 

"Malik, come close," the omega said, taking a few invasive steps forward to try and get to the area containing his prize: Malik's scent glands. 

The alpha backed away, holding up two hands to block him from getting any closer. Not in an aggressive way but in a way to protect himself. "You don't have to do this," he grumbled. 

But Altaïr didn't speak, didn't back down. Only pushed Malik's hands away to fall to his side, and growling lightly, unintentionally, as he found the alpha was pushed against the wall, looking down at his feet to separate himself from the situation. 

"Altaïr, please..." he tried to reason, mostly from a point of embarrassment. But he couldn't bring himself to push the omega away with more force. Their proximity only made his heart rate increase and his scent burn stronger in the room. 

And finally, Altaïr leaned into the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, taking in all the undertones of nuts and spices that he had treasured in his heat. Now, however, it came with an exhilarating hint of earthiness, something unmistakable to any mature omega and something that stirred instinct deep within him. He sniffed more times than he should have, noting how Malik's body reacted - head tilting back onto the wall to search for support and breathing heavily - in response to the omega's attention. 

Then, as Altaïr moved back to look at the alpha in the eyes, there was a moment of silence before he gained the courage to voice his observations. 

"You are in a rut." 

The statement might have been obvious to make when met with the intoxicating scent, but judging purely by Malik's actions, there was no sign of it. No aggression, no possessiveness. Sure, he had shut himself off, but he returned and treated Altaïr civilly as if he wasn't burning up from his repressed urges. It was truly admirable how much control he had over his instincts. Between this and the respectable way he always treated omegas, he had always been the epitome of what an alpha should strive to be. 

Malik inhaled to steady himself, bidding his body not to react to such a phrase uttered by an omega. He looked away and simply said, shakily, "Altaïr, it is not a concern to you." 

His friend's brow creased, and his eyes moved up and down as he observed the signs of arousal and need that he had overlooked before. In the way he held himself hunched over. In the way his breathing was staggered. All the signs he had missed displayed the truth of his condition. 

Everything he knew about alphas in ruts flooded to the forefront of his mind. How they would be more aggressive and defensive and close themself off from friends in search of a mate. How their sex drive would increase at a painful rate until they found release. How - and Altaïr swallowed at the recollection of this fact - how unmated alphas would be sent into a rut over an omega in heat. 

Over his heat. 

Gently, Altaïr moved closer, a timid and unsure hand moving to touch Malik's forearm, holding it delicately. The omega inhaled steadily at the touch, feeling the sudden interest pique in his body. Softly, he then asked, "Did I do this to you?" 

Malik screwed his eyes tight, trying desperately to think past the raging hormones and temptation he was experiencing. Trying to see sense. But any rationality that he was able to gather was destroyed through the soft caress of the back of his palm as Altaïr took his hand in his own. 

In a moment of boldness, the omega leaned forward again and looked up at him with big, compassionate eyes that were so unlike him. Their faces were mere inches apart, and their hearts beat rapidly at the same rhythm. 

"You took care of me." Fingers traced shapes into the alpha's palm. The small action held a weight of promise to it and allowed Malik to see the dark twinkle of desire in Altaïr's expression, and felt it settle in his core. 

Then the omega made an offer that Malik thought he would never hear coming from his mouth. 

"Would you like me to do the same for you?" 

The alpha growled quietly, something within himself snapping at the proposition. He took Altaïr's hand in his own then - so that he was the one holding it - and his pupils widened to be black with lust. The desperation threatened to take over him, but he retained his composure: if only slightly. 

He wanted to do nothing more than to take what he wanted from the omega. He wasn't in heat, so there was little to no chance of him falling with child. But there was an unspoken truth about Altaïr that he knew even if it had never been mentioned. It was something he had suspected and only confirmed during their little episode while Altaïr was in heat. The omega had never been with anyone. 

So then, Malik felt compelled to ask, "Do you have any idea what you're asking for?" 

A hint of a smirk graced Altaïr's usually cold expression. "I am sure I could handle it." 

The alpha lifted up a hand against Altaïr's burning face, tilting it upwards almost as if examining his features. His thumb lifted and caressed his cheek lightly, making the omega lean unsubtly into the touch. Then he asked, "Are you sure you want this, Altaïr? Or do you just feel sorry for me?" 

"I want this, Malik," came the swift whispered reply. Then the omega was staring up at him in want and enthrallment again. He couldn't help the word that escaped his mouth then, almost a question, which was: "Please?"

Malik was just a man. How could he have resisted? 

Their mouths joined, chaste at first but quickly growing in heat as the need of their bodies caught up with their actions. The air was a sea of their mixed scents; fruit and nutmeg, flowers and spices. Both bodies relished the moment and the affection that both men sought. 

The alpha was the one to break the kiss, opting instead to suckle lightly on Altaïr's neck and allowing himself greedy intakes of breath to properly gauge the omega's scent. He had threatened, even considered for a moment, leaving a mark there last time they were intimate. Something to show everyone else who exactly that omega belonged to. And Malik found himself wanting, for a moment, for them to be mated so that he could get away with such a thing. But that would hardly be a just action and he quickly sent the thought from his mind. 

Altaïr himself gasped at the sensation, fingers lifting to tangle in the alpha's hair to pull him closer. Soft bites over his scent gland quickly drove him mad. Then his hands were moving lower, wrapping around his waist, dropping to his thighs, and then planting themselves flush on the omega's asscheeks. 

The feeling made him blush, but he was still able to find the composure to communicate what he wanted. 

"Malik..." 

He immediately stopped, returning his eye contact. 

"I... do not want you to take me," he admitted with a blank expression, looking down before adding, "I just got off my heat. It may be too risky." 

Malik hummed in response, grip sliding up to his hips to correct the offensive touch. "I understand." 

"I am sorry - "

"Don't be," the alpha insisted. "It's not a worry." 

"Of course, I will find another way to... satisfy you." 

Malik's mouth opened into a wide grin. "Is that a promise?" 

His hand crept teasingly down Malik's chest, inexperience making it ever the more tantalising. Altaïr looked up at him with a look of obedience. "It's an oath." 

"What do you intend to do with me?" 

"What would you like?" 

"Hmm..." Malik pondered, lifting a hand to cup Altaïr's chin. His thumb crept over the omega's bottom lip, moving across it gently. As though he were evaluating something he already knew was perfect. He pulled down, smearing some saliva over his friend's lip, before pressing the thumb slightly into his mouth, against his teeth. 

Altaïr suckled and nipped at it, seeming to be lost at the intrusion. He moaned softly around it, realising what it was he could offer the alpha. 

"I would have your mouth: if you would give it to me." 

The omega hummed contentedly. He looked up, a sparkle of interest in his eyes. "I would, Malik. Except..." 

Malik already knew what he was going to say, and interjected, "You've never done that before, have you?" 

Altaïr looked down shyly, shaking his head. 

But this didn't deter either of them. The alpha smirked. "It's okay. I'll tell you what you need to do." 

They kissed again, and it spoke words of encouragement and reassurance. When it ended, Altaïr sunk to his knees as he was instructed. His fingers reached out to fumble with the confines of Malik's pants, clumsily pulling them apart at an excruciatingly slow pace. 

When they were finally undone and fell to the floor, Altaïr had no choice but to swallow. The alpha was well endowed, to say the least. In his state, the tip of his cock was flushed and veins bulged from all sides. His knot was protruding from the base, which the inexperienced omega gathered was rare. Normally, knots were only subtle and barely visible to the eye, but it seemed Malik's rut combined with him ignoring his very clear situation led to it becoming so swollen it almost looked painful. 

Altaïr didn't realise he was staring until moments too late and suddenly felt self-conscious. To remedy this, his eyes looked up to find the alpha's above him, clouded in lust and watching him intently. He released a soft breath to ease the tension that came with his stare. 

The rest of his expression was soft with a slack jaw, ready to restrain himself from his needs for the sake of Altaïr's comfort. He was ready to guide the omega through this and couldn't find a reason to complain if he tried. 

"When you're ready, Altaïr. Do what feels right - watch your teeth - and..." 

The omega gained the courage to take his cock in hand, granting him a few strokes before stopping at his base, squeezing gently under his knot and feeling the weight in his hand. Whatever Malik had been saying was quickly lost. Altaïr glanced up to gauge his reaction - eyes fluttering shut already, suppressing groans - then quickly got back to work. He took a deep breath, taking in the alpha's musky-masculine scent as he did so, and offered the softest kitten lick to his frenulum. His tongue moved around the head for a short time, before pulling away again teasingly. 

He may not have done this before, but Altaïr was determined to please Malik. He licked the underside again slowly. Then his head was swallowed in a soft wrap of lips around him. Altaïr was careful to mind his teeth as he suckled lightly, then allowed the head to pop from his mouth. 

Malik already had his eyes screwed shut. It spoke volumes of how much he had been ignoring his urges, that he was already so hungry for release after only a short time. 

Altaïr gave some more full-length strokes to the alpha before returning to wrap his mouth around the head. He performed something reminiscent of a kissing motion as a teased Malik, lifting off before returning to his work. Then slowly, he started taking in more and more of the man's cock, returning to the head each time as he gradually worked his way down. 

He had previously not noticed how sensitive the back of his throat was and soon found it difficult to deal with the intrusion. The omega refused to let this deter him. He stopped when he found a comfortable amount he could fit in his mouth, then wrapped one of his hands around the rest he couldn't fit in. His other hand braced himself on Malik's thigh so he could begin the action of bobbing his head up and down, providing a little suction when the movement became too repetitive. 

Malik growled, a primal noise that provided encouragement to the omega. Breathlessly, he remarked, "That's... god, Altaïr, that's perfect," and tangled his fingers into his hair. 

Altaïr slipped out a whine at the phrase, a muffled sound that sent shockwaves through the alpha. He continued his work, growing in confidence, increasing his speed. He wrapped his hand around the knot, holding its weight and offering little twists of the wrist as he continued bobbing his head. 

The alpha could feel his end nearing. No matter how he tried holding back, no matter how he fought. But the man's mouth was just too perfect, as if it were made entirely to sit over his cock and provide him pleasure. He groaned at that thought. It was undeniable that the young assassin seemed to have a knack for this. 

"Altaïr," he tried warning, only cut off by his moan at the omega's increased pace. "Ah, Altaïr - "

But he wasn't going to stop, not when he could feel Malik's knot swelling and hear his cries getting more desperate. An alpha, reduced to something so primal, was something he had never known he craved. He couldn't stop. Nor did he want to. 

And when the end finally came with ample warning, Altaïr swallowed his load hungrily, even when it became too much and flowed in rivers down his chin. The taste was bitter, slightly unpleasant, but Altaïr couldn't complain. The idea of having this substance inside him was too pleasant for him. That, and he was more than happy to finally be of service. 

As Malik came down, his cock didn't seem to soften. Like it was still craving more. But the alpha himself was tired and panting hard, clearly done for the moment. He observed how Altaïr shyly wiped the fluid from his chin and looked up with him, eyes dark and full of intrigue. It was a welcome sight. One he didn't know he had needed all these years. He suddenly thought he could get used to that, but quickly ignored that thought when he remembered who exactly he was thinking of. 

Inhibition caught up to him then, and he cleared his throat to let out a weak apology for the mess. 

Altaïr didn't mind though. He even smiled mischievously in return. 

Then, Malik asked a question of courtesy: "Do you need anything from me?" 

Altaïr considered for a moment. While he had enjoyed that act, it hadn't exactly got him worked up. He didn't expect anything in return and didn't necessarily want anything. He replied, "I will manage." 

But then his gaze returned to the alpha's still leaking member, and his brow furrowed. 

"Is there anything else I can do?" 

Malik smiled warmly, beginning to dress again as he answered, "You've already done more than enough." 

There was a sadness that weighed in the room when the alpha was fully dressed. They both stood, unsure whether to leave or to stay and spend more time together. Altaïr found himself cautious to leave for whatever reason. His body seemed to want the alpha to stay, and by Malik's scent, he could tell the man wanted the same. Then an idea struck him, derived completely from instinct even though it was nonsensical to him at the moment. 

"Do you... want to come to my bed?" he asked, blushing as the double meaning hit him suddenly. He clarified his intentions by saying, "You can wait your rut out in there, or... we can find a solution." 

Malik's heart thumped at this invitation. He felt he wouldn't be able to turn it down, even if he wanted to. "Are you certain?" he had to make sure. 

Altaïr nodded. 

So the alpha agreed, and the two stepped into Altaïr's room. His mattress was still covered in a variety of cushions and blankets from his heat. It looked cozy and comfortable, and the alpha soon found himself approaching the space. He couldn't believe Altaïr was allowing him in his room, his bed, his nest, and realised that must be telling as to how much the omega trusted him. 

They lay together on their sides, facing each other as tiredness overwhelmed them both. Altaïr reached out a hand to cup Malik's face before it moved to his hair and combed through it lazily. The alpha seemed to relish in the contact, humming contentedly as his eyes flickered closed. 

Thus began a dreamless sleep full of warm embraces and the scent of mixed spices. 

Altaïr could feel something was wrong the moment he woke up. 

"Malik, I think I'm going into heat." 

The alpha turned around, the cogs working in his brain to find his meaning. It didn't make sense to him so he dismissed it. "You already have this season." 

Altaïr grumbled quietly, recognising the feeling of pre-heat beginning to take over his body and rid him of all sense. It wouldn't be long until he was a mess of hormones and need on his mattress again. "I know, but it is... I can feel it coming." 

"How could that be?" Malik asked after a moment. 

Altaïr inhaled to steady himself, battling over whether he should tell Malik the truth or not. Finally, he looked at him directly and said, "It is because of you." 

The alpha furrowed his brows. "What?" 

Embarrassment caught up to him after he said that, but the omega persisted. He attempted to explain away his shame, because perhaps if he spoke long enough, it would sound convincing. "I have not been around an alpha in close proximity for a long time. Because we live together, my heats have returned. They will be irregular until my body adjusts again, and then I will have regular seasons." 

"I see." 

He hesitantly clarified, "I am not... upset about it." 

This was met by a noise of prompt from the alpha. 

"I was not certain if I would ever get a heat again. Now that it has returned, it is almost relieving." 

"Where will you go for it?" Malik didn't want him to leave, not after their closeness as of late, but didn't want to deny him that right if that was what he wanted. 

This question came across as dismissive for the omega, like a sign of rejection. He let out a hurt noise from a place deep in his throat, unintentional and certainly telling about where he remained. The alpha immediately sought to comfort him, rubbing a soothing touch on his arm that said, You can stay with me. This seemed to put him a little more at ease, but his eyes were still asking for permission. For approval, in a way, that showed Malik wanted him there, that he hadn't been a complete burden. 

The alpha waited until Altaïr had calmed down before he stood and began walking to their kitchen. "Let me show you something." 

Altaïr raised a brow, but followed Malik as he led him to a cupboard he recognised as their spice rack. He never cooked much but found that when it was open, he could identify several herbs and spices that they had consumed before. The scent was a lovely mix of heat and earth; a collection of all the scents of their culture in one. 

But his eyes moved to a small section of jars and bundles of herbs that he knew were not for cooking. He recognised some of them after a moment, and his eyes widened. 

"These are omega herbs," he pointed out flatly, still in disbelief at their presence. 

"Yes. I bought them after you were struggling so much after your last heat." He picked up one of the jars containing multiple herbs including ginger and thistles. "These are for suppressing your heat if there's an emergency. If we have to leave Masyaf in a hurry, or something like that. And these - " he pointed at another bundle of leaves - "Are supposed to help with your fevers. These help with lucidity. These are to improve your appetite." 

"You got all of these for me?" 

"Well, yes. I wanted to assist you, Altaïr." 

"Malik," he whispered, touched by the gesture but not wanting to be too affectionate. Then his eyes wandered to a small jar behind the others on the shelf as if tucked away from view. Altaïr couldn't contain himself once he felt he recognised what they were, and his heart thrummed in anticipation as he picked it up and examined it. Short dried stems with five-pointed, half-budded purple flowers. His breath was stolen from him as he asked, "What are these for?" 

Though, he already knew the answer. 

"It is, er," Malik stumbled for a moment as he searched for the right words. "It is to... make an omega lose a child." 

An abortive, Altaïr thought. He had heard stories of other omegas using this herb in cases where they never intended to fall pregnant. He had only seen it one other time when one of the other omega assassins was with child and asked Altaïr to come to the market to get a sample. The apothecary then had called it nabruqqu. It supposedly came from the east many years ago and was extremely effective. Within a week, his omega friend had lost the child and was able to continue working. 

At the time, he remembered thinking about what would bring someone to do something like that but couldn't bring himself to pass too much judgement or to pose too many questions to his friend. But now? With the herb in his hand and the haze of his oncoming heat clouding him, he viewed this contentious herb as a possibility for pleasure he had not previously experienced. 

Perhaps that was selfish, but he was helpless to the interest that stirred in his stomach and the breath that was stolen from his chest. He whined softly and looked at Malik discreetly. Though his body language still told that he was being reserved and distant, his expression told a different story; one of vast intrigue and excitement. 

He let out a strained, breathy cry of, "Malik..." 

Immediately, the alpha knew what he was going to say from the way he clutched that jar as if his life depended on it and the scent of flowers that pervaded the air. He dismissed the omega by saying, "Altaïr, don't." There was an unspoken I am not going to breed you that seemed to contradict the new scent of musk that left Altaïr weak. 

The omega moaned softly before lightheartedly remarking, "You don't even know what I was going to say." 

"I do, and the answer is no." 

"B-but - !" Altaïr tried begging, before regaining his composure with a breath that let in a little too much of the alpha's spiced scent for comfort. 

"It is not reliable," Malik explained, wiping the sweat from his brow. "There is a chance you will still be with child after you ingest this. It doesn't always work." 

"I am okay with taking that chance," Altaïr stated simply. He had full confidence that the herb would work. He had seen it work himself countless times. 

"But I," Malik said with some force, "am not. I have Kadar, I have the brotherhood. I cannot afford to have pups. Not now." 

"You have my word that they will not be your problem if this fails." Altaïr thought of the brotherhood's rules. About how any member would have to give up their children to train and become assassins. He had always been torn about that rule, not that he so desired to have children, but if he did, he would be glad to know they were safe inside the walls of Masyaf. But he also thought back to his father and saw a blank face. He wondered if his child would think the same way of him. He didn't think he could do that to such an innocent thing. Never harm an innocent. 

Malik sighed defeatedly, finding himself somewhat swayed already although he didn't want to be. Wanted to show more persistence. But instead of shutting down the idea completely, as he should have done, selfishly, he allowed it to linger when he said, "We will speak about this later." 

Then he left the room, desperate for some fresh air. 

The omega's heat hit in full that night. Perhaps from the arousal he inflicted upon himself earlier, perhaps for unrelated reasons. It was already more pleasant than his previous season. He worked to rearrange his nest to make it suitable, before collapsing onto it and relieving himself of his need in an attempt to ease his mind. 

Malik scented it in the dead of night when he woke up in a sweat. Unable to go back to resting, he soon appeared in the omega's room, who was asleep, to gift him an extra blanket of his. He noted that doing this last time seemed to calm Altaïr significantly and hoped it would achieve a similar effect as he went back to his room. 

His mind lingered on the herb Altaïr had found. The possibility to take what he wanted without consequence. But he wondered if that would be the right thing to do. If it would simply be taking advantage of him. If he even wanted to in the first place. He couldn't displace the mental image of Altaïr swelled round with his pups that stirred something instinctive within him. Although, feasibly if their plan worked it would never get to that point, it was something he couldn't help but be intrigued by. He groaned as his mind continued wandering. This was not an easy decision to be made. 

The light of the sun peaked through the curtains when the next morning came. The house was permeated by the scent of citrus and pomegranate that Malik had surprisingly become accustomed to. 

Most of the day passed before Malik decided to be of some company. He brewed a tea with the fever-reducing herbs and carried it into the omega, who was still sleeping. It seemed his suspicions were right; Altaïr was burning up in the furnace that was his nest. His complexion was red and blotchy, and his body heat seemed to consume the room. 

Carefully, the alpha took a seat beside his mattress and began slowly shaking him, saying his name, to wake him. 

Altaïr awoke with a soft moan, and when he realised that Malik was there with him, his expression shifted into something contented. The alpha, determined to get him to have the mixture, positioned Altaïr into a sitting position before handing him the cup, guiding his sleep-drunk movements so he didn't drop it. 

"Drink, Altaïr. It will help you." 

The familiar nausea of consuming anything crept into him, but he forced himself to gulp the whole drink down. He let out a sickly noise before placing the cup on the floor in front of him, looking to Malik for approval. 

The alpha smiled weakly. "Good, Altaïr." 

He whined at that, leaning forward with his head in his hands to shield his embarrassment. 

Malik thought his reaction was endearing and chuckled lightly as he scooted closer. He let a hand roam over his back, the first real contact they had made since Altaïr started his heat. It only showed how desperate he was for physical touch. The innocent hand quickly began making the omega's blood thrum loudly in his ears, and he had to pull in deep breaths to contain himself. 

"Malik..." he whined, adoring the way the name slipped from his mouth. Feeling so right. 

The alpha recognised the need in his tone. He could feel it himself from the first scent of this heat. His mind thought back to the nabruqqu and the way Altaïr's mind seemed to flood with interest. He knew, logically, that he shouldn't act on his urges. That he should ignore his instincts just like he had forced himself to all his life. But another part of him wanted to give in. An omega was willing and able to give him a child, he said so out of heat, and if the abortive didn't work then the child would be sent to Masyaf as soon as he could walk. There were no viable consequences. No reason he could see to deny himself for any longer. 

Malik was only a man. 

He couldn't resist. 

"What do you need, Altaïr?" he asked, despite himself. 

The omega whined at that, looking up with big, dark eyes. "Malik... please." 

He sighed. "Altaïr, I cannot give you anything if you don't tell me what you want. Breathe. Use your words." 

While he didn't like being spoken to that way, like a child, Altaïr understood why it was necessary and appreciated his need to have consent. He inhaled to steady himself. "Malik, what we spoke about before. Can we do that?" 

A hum came from the alpha. He lifted his hand to cup Altaïr's cheek, who leaned into it like it was keeping him alive. Then his face took on a grim note, and he asked, "Do you want that?" 

Immediately, Altaïr nodded furiously, as if he couldn't be more sure. 

"No, I mean, do you really want this? Besides all this, is this what you truly desire?" 

It took a moment for the meaning of that phrase to sink in. What Malik meant, what he was asking, was if he had any doubts, hesitation, uncertainty. And Altaïr had to think on it. But after a long while, he nodded again. He was sure. 

"Altaïr?" 

The omega whined, "Please?" 

And that was when the alpha knew he was doomed. 

They kissed lovingly once there was no more unclarity in their intentions, and the kiss quickly turned into a charming embrace, which then melted into hot steamy touches. The room was filled with their mixed scents, the ones that had voices of their own. They spoke of need and desire, of instinct and love. They spoke of what was to come, and the potential pup that was going to be formed. Everything that neither man had the words for echoed in the room in the language of iris and cinnamon. 

Malik sought to undress the omega, untying his shirt before pulling his pants off. He tossed his shirt off to the side and began working on the bottom of his outfit, still kissing Altaïr as he did so, who was pressing firmly against the muscular flesh on his chest and gasping in anticipation. 

When the alpha had freed himself, he offered a few generous strokes to his cock. Then he laid Altaïr flat on the bed, his body burning but definitely not as hot as it would have been otherwise. He kneeled between the omega's spread legs, calloused fingertips creating trails over his body. He was still a lean man, but he was perfectly muscular with only a thin layer of fat covering his bones. His abdomen was toned, as was his chest which Malik took particular interest in, touching them gently and lightly tracing over his nipples, which resulted in a long keen from Altaïr's mouth. 

He sank lower so he could trail down his abdomen and stomach, hands moving across his thighs, down and up as if preparing the body before him. He took great enjoyment from how his hips bucked upwards as he neared his already leaking cock, whining at the teasing. Malik took pity on him then and offered the first light stroke to his hardness. 

Altaïr moaned loudly before resorting to wild pleas between keens, seemingly crazed by the stimulation he had sought after. The initial pleasure brought from an alpha touching him in there of all places for the first time was intense, and he soon found himself on the edge. 

By the time he was there, a finger on Malik's other hand was prodding at his entrance. Altaïr gasped as it pressed in without resistance, feeling how slick he was, even second-hand. It wasn't long before Malik found the right spot to touch within him that made him see stars, and the next time his prostate was touched, he came with a desperate wail. 

It was known that omegas could have multiple orgasms in heat, so Malik wasn't deterred by this. He added a second finger, more insistent on opening the way for himself, but finding that he was surprisingly already prepped. 

"Mm, Altaïr," the alpha rumbled, "Do you touch yourself here?" 

"I-I - yeah," he stammered out. 

Malik felt an unintentional rumbling of his chest come out as a low growl, one of arousal and possession. The mental image that gave him was something he never knew he needed. "Good. You should show me sometime, I'd like that immensely." 

And it seemed the omega liked that idea too because quickly he was clenching around Malik's fingers, wriggling on them as if searching for more pleasure. He eventually got tired and simply bucked his hips one last time before whining out, "M-Malik, c'mon. I'm ready." 

He seemed to consider this for a moment, slowing his movements much to Altaïr's protests, before deciding to keep going just for safety. He smirked mischievously. "Why don't you ask a little nicer this time?" 

Altaïr exhaled in a puff, frustrated and beautifully so. He felt the tips of his ears go hot in embarrassment. "M-Malik, come on," he tried to reason. 

But the alpha was persistent and allowed the loaded phrase to slip from his mouth: "Convince me." 

To which, the omega nearly sobbed. In his delirium, he still possessed some capacity for self-awareness, but the absolute need that filled his body was something he could not bring himself to ignore. If that was what it took to get him fulfilled, he would do it, even if he'd deny that it happened later. Being sated was his only purpose for living at that time. 

"Malik?" 

"Yes, Altaïr?" 

He swallowed. "I-I need you so bad, Malik, you don't understand. It h-hurts, Malik. Please, take me. I'm ready, I need it." 

The alpha hummed, seemingly pleased as he aligned himself with Altaïr's entrance. He rubbed his cock up and down, gathering some slick and moaning at the feeling of it. Then, before he pushed in, he put his hand on Altaïr's hip, steadying himself as he asked, "Are you certain about this?" 

Altaïr cursed, bucking his hips to attempt to grind back onto his cock, stopped only by the hand holding him in place. He was so frustrated at that point that he would probably do anything to get what he wanted. "Malik! Yes, I'm sure, keep going please." 

"I couldn't deny a request like that," he remarked smiling, then leaned down to kiss Altaïr as he slowly, finally pushed in. 

The omega's eyes fluttered shut and a profane noise escaped from his mouth, muffled by the ministrations of the other man. When Malik was fully in, save his knot, he paused for a moment to enjoy the feeling of Altaïr's slick walls. He started moving slowly, and it was as if they were made to fit into each other. Every move grazed Altaïr's prostate, making him clench and moan out, which in turn made Malik groan at the tight heat around him. It was pure bliss. 

They continued at a slow pace to start, before Altaïr started asking him to go faster, go harder, and so he did. He stopped kissing him so he could loop his hands under the bend of Altaïr's knee, pulling his legs up and almost folding him in half as he continued driving in at an ever-increasing pace. This new angle allowed him to drive in deeper, making Altaïr writhe and whine below him, and it wasn't long then until he finished a second time. 

Altaïr's legs slipped from his grasp, landing half-bent on either side of him as he continued fucking him. He was entranced by the unrelenting pleasure, head lolling back and noises falling unwillingly from his mouth. 

That room was timeless. They did not know how long they had been there for, nor how long they would remain. But when Malik realised he was approaching his end, he couldn't help but think it had happened too soon. He could live forever in that place of pure pleasure. It would be a shame to have it over so soon. That was why he decided that it was time to catch on him. 

His knot swelled as he drove again and again into Altaïr. It hit the edge of the omega's entrance with every thrust, threatening to pop in. It was tantalizingly close, it was right there, and the omega wanted nothing more than to just push it in himself. 

Malik warned him, "I... I have to knot you." 

The omega's entire body spasmed in excitement.  "Yes! Please, Malik! I-I - Please." 

"Shush," Malik urges, slowing his pace down as he prepared himself for what he would do. He leaned down, holding Altaïr close with an arm wrapped around his back. "Hold still, Altaïr. This will hurt a little." 

But the omega was not prepared for how the stretch would really feel. How it pulled him open, challenged the bounds of his walls, and send jolts of pain through his core. Altaïr squeezed his eyes shut, fingers twisting in the blankets below him until finally the knot was fully inside him and he let out an uncontained painful groan. 

Malik's eyebrows furrowed as he hushed his friend softly, thumb rubbing soothing caresses into his cheek. "Are you well?" 

He muttered something in response, but it was too quiet and insensible to make out. 

"Altaïr?" 

The omega whined, annoyed at having to repeat himself. His eyes opened then and looked at Malik in earnest as he finally said something so filthy the alpha couldn't have conjured it up in his wildest fantasies. 

"Breed me!" he demanded, then whined brokenly. "Knot me, Malik, please, oh god, please." 

Malik growled at those words, something so primal becoming unlocked in him. They had spoken about it, sure, but only through veiled words and concealed allegories. Such a vulgar way of putting things drove him crazy, and he slowly felt his composure slipping as he resumed the pace he was at before with shallower thrusts. 

This new depth granted Altaïr a new level of pleasure. His back arched up, he felt his own cock twitch in interest once more and knew his next orgasm would be right there. It was silenced by Malik's kiss, which trailed down to his jawline and his scent gland, lapping at those locations and sucking lightly. Not intent to make a mark, but without qualms about it if he did. 

Altaïr was whining then as he felt the knot swell inside him to an even greater extent than he had ever felt it. It was beginning to be too much for him to handle, even in his heat. His prime comfort was the soft touch of the alpha who was holding him close, kissing his neck, and whispering honey-soaked praises in his ear. 

When the end finally came, it was explosive, as though it filled every part of his body. It was a sensational feeling. The only thing he'd change is the ability to watch as it was done to him. 

Malik was panting by the end of it, absolutely lost and shattered by the pleasure until he was able to recuperate. The two of them kissed again, embraced firmly, knowing that they would be in place like that until the alpha's knot swelled down. 

"You did so well, Altaïr," he praised between kisses. 

But it seemed the omega's mind was elsewhere. 

"Altaïr? Speak to me." 

He came back to Earth, and in the haze of his heat, didn't realise the extent of what he said. 

"If I have pups, will you be there?" 

"Altaïr..." 

"I know. But we have been pretending this whole time. Can I not just... pretend a little longer?" 

A short rumbling noise came from Malik's chest as he agreed. In his mind, he thought of Altaïr being swollen with his baby, needing assistance during the pregnancy, him with a plethora of little pups running around the house they shared. And that seemed to be a very pleasant thing to him. 

"If you had pups," he began hesitantly, "I would bathe you every day during your pregnancy. Make sure you were well-fed and careful all the time, even if you felt you could do something dangerous. I'd protect you from everyone else in Masyaf, all the crusaders. I'd care for you, and make sure you had the best midwife for your delivery. Then I'd sit with you while you fed them and look after them for you so you could finally get some rest."

Altaïr hummed at the image being painted in his mind as the alpha ran soothing fingers through his short hair, planting a kiss on his cheek. His temperature had gone down considerably. It was as if he could go to sleep. 

"I would be there with you every second, despite what I said before. Even if this doesn't work out, I will be there." 

"Do you promise?" Altaïr asked teasingly. 

And Malik smiled weakly in return. "I swear." 

They both slept easily that night, not leaving Altaïr's nest for anything. 

When enough time had passed that the omega knew for certain he was with child and the cool air of autumn started seeping into their house, Malik knocked on Altaïr's door. The omega knew what this would be about, and almost dreaded the conversation that was coming. 

The alpha walked in after a moment to find Altaïr huddled up in blankets on his mattress. It was a cozy sight. The man looked so tiny underneath the large fabric. 

But Malik was holding a cup that Altaïr did not have a pleasant feeling about. 

Nabruqqu. 

They didn't speak for a moment. Words weren't important at that moment. Malik handed the drink to the omega, who blinked at it for a second without saying a word. Finally, he took it. He didn't need to ask what it was. He could tell by the grim look on the alpha's face. 

Some time passed. Malik took a seat on the floor, waiting for the omega to drink it. Anxiety crept into his entire frame. 

But Altaïr's mind was a battlefield of its own. He thought of the years that had gone by since his first few heats. The omegas that would crowd in a room at Masyaf castle to wait out the week, smelling of flowers and fruit. He thought of how lonely he felt when he didn't get a heat one season but was certain it would return. And he thought about how when it stopped, he wasn't sad by any means, he was more relieved. Relieved he wouldn't be subject to some sick alpha's fantasies. Relieved he wouldn't have to give up his own child. The only unpleasant thing about it was the feeling that he was undesirable. That no mate would look for him because he couldn't produce a child. That was, to him, the worst part of it all. 

Then he thought about the past few months of living with Malik. How vulnerable he had been, how he had felt at home there. Relief, but in a different form this time, when he realised that he was an eligible mate again. Relief, when Malik sought to take care of him. 

He thought about the pup growing inside him. He had missed his heat, so he knew it was there, even if he couldn't yet feel it moving. The life he and Malik had created. The life that he and Malik could live if they just abandoned and killed what they had created. Was he really a person to take that away? 

Never harm an innocent. 

But he couldn't say he ever stuck to the creed. 

This was a necessity. Something as important as breathing in air. 

He lifted the cup to his lips and inhaled deeply. In his nose, he scented: vitality.