ladyhoneydarlinglove | {AC FIc} Untitled Superhero AU

Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Pairing: Altair/Connor I DON'T KNOW EITHER OKAY
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2100
Summary: Superhero AU because who the fuck even knows. Mostly unedited.

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“So how did it go?” 16 asked as soon as Altair dropped down from the ceiling and into the control room. “All we heard was an explosion and then you guys cut out.”

“It was fine,” Altair gritted out, though he wasn’t looking at 16 but rather at Tomahawk and Firenze as they too dropped down into the room. But Altair didn’t need to be looking at 16 to know that he was rolling his eyes.

“Let me guess,” 16 said as Tomahawk began to stomp off towards the showers. “There were disagreements on how things should have been handled.”

“There wouldn’t have to be disagreements if certain people would just listen and actually do what they’re told for once,” Altair snapped, and Tomahawk whipped around, just like Altair knew he would.

“Are you trying to blame me for something?” he spat, advancing on Altair.

“No, not at all,” Altair drawled. “I mean it’s not like you did anything stupid like abandon the mission to try and save a stolen purse. And you definitely didn’t jeopardize the mission so badly that the target almost got away.”

“We got him in the end, you asshole, so stop harassing me about it!” Tomahawk snapped. “And besides, what was I supposed to do, just let it go?”

“Yes!” Altair yelled. “God, I am so sick of your stupid self-righteousness! How many times do I have to tell you before it gets through your thick skull, we can’t afford to worry about every little crime committed in the city, we have bigger problems to worry about—“

“I help people when they need help,” Tomahawk snarled, cutting Altair off. “And I will always help people when they need help, even if you think—“

“Oh for God’s sake, are you two fighting again?”

Altair’s gaze snapped from Tomahawk to the newcomer. It was Dai, their intel coordinator, his hand on his hip and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know what would be fantastic?” Dai continued, marching up between Altair and Tomahawk and glaring at both of them. “If for one night—one night—you two could put aside your differences and actually get along.”

“I would love to be able to get along for one night,” Tomahawk snapped. “But he just makes it so difficult—“

“I’m your Mentor, and you’re supposed to listen to me!” Altair shot back, cutting Tomahawk off.

“No, Dai is my Mentor and I’m supposed to listen to him,” Tomahawk said smugly, crossing his arms. “I don’t actually have to do anything you tell me too, jackass.”

Altair snarled and moved forward, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he stopped, not needing to look to know that Dai was starting to move across the border from angry to furious.

“Enough!” he snapped. “The both of you are acting like spoiled children! Tomahawk, yes, technically speaking I’m your Mentor but Masyaf is still your superior and you need to listen to him, even if you don’t always agree with him. And Masyaf, you need to stop antagonizing Tomahawk and take his opinions into consideration more often.” Dai squeezed Altair’s shoulder tightly, and Altair hissed in pain at the strength behind it. “Am I making myself clear?”

Altair threw a glare at Tomahawk, who defiantly glowered back, but they both threw out grumbled agreements. “Good,” Dai said. “Firenze?”

“Si?” Firenze answered, and Altair resisted the urge to roll his eyes. God, he really needed to work better on hiding his stupid accent.

“Can you, Agate, and Animus handle the streets for a few nights? I think both of our little brats here could benefit from some time off.”

“I don’t—“ Tomahawk began, but a sharp glare from Dai shut him up quickly. Altair would have smirked but Dai’s hand was still on his shoulder and Altair didn’t want to think about would happen if the grip got any tighter.

“Ah, yes, I think so,” Firenze said, smiling in his carefree, almost lazy way. “We took care of Hospitalier tonight, so I think it should be fairly quiet, no?”

“Stats say the next few nights should be good, “ 16 confirmed, swiveling around in hid chair to pull up a screen on one of his monitors. “Well, a sixty-eight percent chance, anyway.” He looked at Firenze. “That good enough for you?”

“If it’s good enough for our esteemed leader,” Firenze answered with a barely concealed smirk. Altair glared.

“It’s fine,” he snapped.

Besides him, Dai rolled his eyes. “Good,” he said. “Now come with me, I need to talk to you about something.”

Altair left with Dai, though he made sure to throw one last glare at Tomahawk over his shoulder, just for good measure.

Tomahawk gave him the finger in response.

Altair’s phone was ringing, he realized as the incessant noise began to drag him out of the cocoon of sleep. Hungry Like the Wolf, which meant Connor. Why was Connor—

“Shit!” Altair hissed and sat up, grabbing his phone and frantically hitting the answer button. He didn’t even give Connor a chance to speak before babbling out, “The dog park, I know, I’m sorry, I slept through my alarm, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He heard Connor chuckle. “It’s okay,” he said. “Max is having fun. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Right.” By this time Altair had jumped out of bed and was dressing as fast as he could without using his superpowers. “Okay. I’m up, I’m getting ready, I’ll be leaving soon. Promise.”

Altair didn’t have to see Connor to know that the man was smiling. “Alright. See you soon.”

Altair knew that Connor wouldn’t be angry with him for being late, but it didn’t change the fact that Altair still felt bad, because he was almost always late. So he stopped by the local organic co-op and got two of Connor’s favorite sandwiches for lunch. Altair still didn’t really get what was so great about organic food, but he knew that Connor was very passionate it, and anything that Connor was passionate about Altair usually ended up liking by default mostly because he just liked seeing Connor happy.

It took Altair longer to get to the dog park than he wanted, but Connor was waiting patiently for him on their favorite bench, watching his husky Max run around like a loon and chasing squirrels, happy as any dog had ever been. He smiled warmly at Altair when he approached. “Hey,” Connor said. “What’cha got there?”

“Lunch,” Altair answered, plopping down next to him and pulling out a sandwich. “As an apology for being late.”

“You didn’t have to,” Connor said, though his large, puppy-like eyes shone gleefully in the sunlight as he accepted the sandwich. Altair tried not to smile too obviously. For being as big and intimidating a man as Connor was, Altair thought it rather remarkable that he could also be the most ridiculous adorable thing Altair had ever at times.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said. “I feel bad about being late all the time.”

“Well, you do work nights,” Connor pointed out. “That’s a tough schedule. I understand.”

Altair grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “And speaking of work, you would not believe what that one asshole coworker I have did last night. I swear to God I almost punched him in the face for being so stupid.”

“Really,” Connor said, clearly unimpressed.

“Yeah, really,” Altair continued, still smiling. “He’s just such a jackass, I don’t know how much more I can take. I think next time I see him I’m just going to chuck him off the side of a building and be done with it.”

“Hmm,” Connor said. His face was stoic but Altair could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that meant Connor was trying really hard not to laugh. “Well, I’m sure he feels the same way about you.”

“Really?” Altair asked, feigning surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re a dumbass,” Connor stated matter-of-factly. “Two, you do really stupid, dangerous things like run headfirst into a bomb—“

“Oh, right.” Altair had the decency to look somewhat sheepish. He had run head first into a bomb explosion last night, though in his defense, it hadn’t been a very good bomb and he’d come out unscathed. “Sorry about that.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Just be more careful next time, okay?” he said. His tone of voice was deceptively light and Altair knew that Connor had been more worried than he wanted to admit, which made Altair smile

“Okay,” Altair agreed. He laid his head down on Connor’s shoulder. A second later a warm arm curled around his waist, and Altair sighed very quietly in content.

“You were great last night, by the way,” he said. “That girl was so happy to get her purse back I thought she was going to faint.”

Connor laughed. “Yeah, well, Hospitalier almost got away too, and I really don’t think a purse full of old receipts and tampons would have been worth that.”

“Hey, but he didn’t,” Altair said. “We locked him away and we managed to con our way into getting a couple days off. I’d say that makes for a pretty good night.”

Connor’s hand squeezed his waist; the grip was even stronger than Dai’s had been last night, though Altair didn’t mind in the slightest. He found it comforting. “So, what do you want to do?” Altair asked.

“I was thinking I could take a couple days off from working at the shelter too and maybe we could do something at the children’s hospital again,” Connor said. Altair wasn’t surprised. Connor always wanted to do things like that on his rare days off because he had a heart of gold, the extent of which never ceased to amaze Altair. “And we could bring some animals from the shelter for them to play with.”

“I’m sure they’d love that,” Altair said. He grinned, the mention of the children’s hospital reminding him of the first time Altair had met Connor. Altair daylighted as a children’s book author and illustrator and Connor had contacted him wondering if he would be willing to come in and do some art stuff with the kids. Altair wasn’t usually one for sappy romance, but he’d known the second he caught sight of the handsome man in the superhero costume (Masyaf’s superhero costume, to be exact, because Connor was a huge Masyaf fan even if Tomahawk wasn’t), with his big bright eyes and his warm friendly smile that he was a goner.

Tomahawk had joined their team a few weeks later, and from there it hadn’t been hard for Altair to figure out his secret identity. (Altair knew everyone’s, and as their chapter’s leader he kept tabs on all of them to keep them safer; currently he was trying to figure out how to tell Ezio to hide his accent when he was Firenze without giving himself away.) He’d been surprised when Connor managed to figure out his, though. Altair’s entire life revolved around the careful keeping of secrets, and no one had ever found him out before. It had unnerved him that Connor had managed to figure him out, and in the beginning, it had been extremely hard on both of them to find a balance.

But not anymore. Now they had figured out a rhythm that worked beautifull and fooled everyone. Now Altair had someone he could be intimate with and not have to worry about hiding. And Altair was so glad that it was Connor, because it just made everything so much easier because Connor knew and understood what it meant to lead a double life and also just because he was Connor. Altair thought that even if Connor hadn’t been a superhero, he’d have understood, because Connor was just that great a guy.

“So after the children’s hospital,” Connor said, “I was thinking that maybe we could grab some diner at that restaurant on 3^rd and 7^th that you like so much?”

“That sounds good,” Altair agreed.

“And then back to my place?” Connor prompted, making Altair smirk.

“Are you going to buy me an expensive meal just to get me in bed?” he teased. Connor rolled his eyes.

“Please,” he said. “I don’t need to buy you dinner to get you into bed. We both know you’d let me take you on this bench right now if you thought we could get away with it.”

“Well, you know,” Altair said slyly, “I can extend my invisibility to cover two—“

Altair was cut off by a very thorough kiss that was Connor’s way of telling him to shut up and stop ruining the moment. Altair was more than happy to oblige.