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Chapter Text

The train rumbled as it chugged down the tracks, slower now that it wasn't being used to race around Whitechapel to do Kaylock's bidding. Jacob and Evie sat in one of the compartments with Agnes, chatting about renovations and additions to some of the cars they could do, with Evie expressing the need for an 'Assassination Wall' to help keep track of the Templars they would kill in the time to come. Henry was somewhere in the other compartment, flicking through books and reports that Kaylock left on the train. 

The train passed by a factory (one that was running on mostly child labor, as Agnes had pointed out), the smell of burning coal filling the air through the open window behind Jacob. The male twin sat relaxed in his seat, his legs thrown over the armrest, shoulders slouched and his hat tossed onto the table in front of them, much to his sister's displeasure.

"Would it kill you to sit properly for once?" Evie grumbled, swatting her brother with his hat as she stood up. Jacob grabbed his hat back, setting it on his head well slouching farther into the seat.

"We're assassins. Most of our life is spent in situations that could turn to shit at the drop of a hat." Jacob muttered. "I think we can afford to relax for a little while." Evie just rolled her eyes and made her way to the door.

"Relaxation time is over. Henry might need help with those papers and we need to figure out who our next target is." Evie said, turning to fix her brother with a glare before walking out of the compartment. Jacob rolled his eyes, standing up and following his sister out of the compartment and into the other.

"You know, if you didn't have such a stick up your arse about these types of things, maybe yo-" Jacob began to speak before he slammed into Evie's back in the doorway.

"Evie, can you move?" The other twin asked, resting a hand on his sister's shoulder. He gentle pushed her put of the way, stepping to the side so he was fully in the compartment. He looked at Evie's face, waiting for a snide comment or a remark on his perception skills. All he got was a pale face and a wide-eyed gaze. Jacob followed her gaze towards wherever she was looking, taking in the desk riddled with papers and open books- some of which were spilling onto the floor- before his gaze fell onto what his sister was so fixated on.

Henry was holding a book, pointing at something on the page, while another man stood next to him, clad in typical assassin garb with his brows knitting together as he nodded along to whatever Henry was saying. They seemed to be in their own little world, exchanging quiet comments between the two of them before Henry looked up. His eyes widened when he saw the twins, briefly startled by their sudden appearance before flashing them a smile.

"Ms. Frye, Mr. Frye, have you come to help us do some research?" Henry asked, closing the book in his hands and setting it back on the desk.

"We were." Evie started. "But who the hell is he?" She pointed at the other man, who had finally looked upwards at the twins. Jacob felt his heart stop, then start again at a much faster pace. The male was much taller than him and had broader shoulders. It wasn't the size difference that caused Jacob's heart to stutter, but the mismatched beauty of the male before him.

His hair was closely shaven along the sides, leaving only the top of his head covered by black locks that had streaks of blond littered throughout them, curling slightly in odd places. His eyes seemed to be as mismatched as his hair, with the left one being a chocolate brown while the right one was a lighter green. He looked like a patchwork of colors, each one bringing out a different color on his face, while the black and grey of his clothes made his skin seem to almost glow from how pale it was.

I think I might need to file a complaint with this kid's parents. Who allowed this man to be so mismatched and still so fucking sexy?, Jacob thought, attempting to get his thoughts straight before his friend downstairs decided to make his presence known. He had long since reliazed that he would have feelings for men (as long as they met certain standards, he's not fucking an unclean man even if he had loads of money) as well as women, but this man just ticked all the boxes on Jacob's list.

"Oh, right! I haven't introduced you yet." Henry said. "This is my apprentice and good friend of-"

"You're like a brother to me, Greenie. I've been around long enough to be moved out of the 'dear friend' category." The male cut in, and Jacob felt his heart flutter at his voice. It was slightly deeper than his own, but seemed to have the same playful bite to it. The male stuck out his hand. "Alistair Thomas Green, at your service."

"Evie Frye. And this is my twin brother Jacob." Evie introduced them, shaking Alistair's hand. Jacob just smirked, taking the male's hand in a quick shake before letting it fall between them. 

"Father never mentioned that you had an apprentice." Jacob stated, earning a questioning look from Evie. "What? I actually pay attention to some of the things you say. I just chose to make your life hard."

Evie rolled her eyes, smacking Jacob lightly on the head. "Father also never mentioned you having a brother." She muttered.

"Alistair has been my apprentice for 3 years." Henry stated, moving to grab another book from the stack next to the desk.

"And 'Alistair Thomas Green' isn't even my real name. I changed it after I met Henry and became his apprentice. Alistair was my middle name. Henry treated me like a brother, so I just took his last name." Alistair explained. From a perch next to him, a crow that the twins hadn't noticed before let out a caw. Alistair rolled his eyes.

"Almost forgot about you." He quibbed. "This little friend of ours is Serpent, my crow. He carries messages for me and will distract Blighters if need be." The crow cawed again, stretching out and flying over towards Evie, landing on her shoulder. 

Jacob reached out his hand and watched as the bird twisted his neck to allow Jacob to pet him. Henry sighed from where he was standing by the desk. 

"If your introductions are over, I believe it is wise for us to continue our attacks on the Blighters and Starrick." Henry said. Alistair's small smile grew into a murderous grin. 

"Who are our targets?" He asked, fingers fidgeting with the handle of a gun at his waist.

This kid's got style. I like it, Jacob thought, letting his smile widen.

"Well, someone needs to help Aleck with his fuses for his telegraph. He's trying to stop to flow of false propaganda coming from the Blighters." Henry suggested. "Evie, would you mind helping?"

"Not at all." The female twin said, moving towards the door. "What about Jacob and Alistair?"

"I need you to find out who is making the Soothing Syrup and put a stop to them." Henry said. Jacob looked confused.

"Soothing Syrup?" He asked.

"Starrick's Soothing Syrup is a false medicine the Templars have created. We kill whoever created it, we stop the production." Alistair answered, already making his way to the door. "I have a feeling I know where to start. Jacob, care to join?"

Jacob smiled before following Alistair towards the door. Serpent flew off Evie's shoulder and out the open window, taking flight into the London sky.

Chapter Text

Jacob watched as Alistair ran across the roof, hoping over some chimneys with ease and landing on his feet like a cat. They stopped on the edge of the group of houses, watching the street and park below them.

"Care to explain why we're here? And what is Soothing Syrup anyway?" Jacob asked, leaning slightly over the edge of the roof and nearly falling off. Alistair grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling the slightly smaller male back onto the roof and away from the edge. Alistair let out a chuckle as Jacob straightened out his collar, muttering something about 'not falling' and 'growing up on roofs and high points'.

"We're here so we can find a seller and get some information out of him. We can work our way up the food chain and eventually find out who created the false medicine." Alistair said, keeping a careful eye on the people below. A few kids were kicking around rocks in the street, horses were pawing at the road, men and women alike were moving about the stores and alleyways. "This Soothing Syrup has become the only medicine available in Lambeth. It bears the Templar Grand Master's name."

"A false medicine created by the Templars? About time for a visit to the doctor." Jacob joked, a smile spreading across his face. Alistair smiled back, before turning back towards the road. Shouting drew their attention towards a man in the park, yelling out his wares and their prices. He had crates behind him, more than likely filled with products to be sold to the general populace. While they watched, someone walked over, handing the man money and taking a bottle from him.

The man quickly pocketed the money before going back to shouting. The assassins looked at each other, silently deciding to check out what the man was selling. Jacob went to the edge, preparing to grab onto the ledge and drop down. As he swung his legs over, he heard a thud coming from his left. He dropped down the rest of the way, glad that the building wasn't high enough to break any bones, before turning towards where the sound came from. Standing at the entrance to an alley was Alistair, leaning against the building with a smug little grin on his face.

"You take to long." The mismatched male quibbed, pushing himself off the wall and walking over to the other male.

"Was that thud you?" Jacob asked, brows knitting together and head tilting to the side. Alistair nodded as he began to walk across the street towards the park.

"Henry and I would have climbing races when I first started training. I've learnt how to climb and fall quickly between buildings without breaking anything." Alistair commented, waiting for a carriage to pass before continuing on. Jacob nodded, following close behind.

"You'll have to teach me, then. That might be helpful in the future." Jacob responded, pulling Alistair through the park entrance and towards the shouting man. As they got closer, it was clear what exactly the man was selling: bottles of Soothing Syrup filled the crates behind him, the glass shining in the early afternoon sun. Alistair went to move towards the man, more than likely to have a few 'words' with him. Jacob grabbed his arm, yanking him back. Before the other male could protest, the male twin pointed towards a woman who was marching towards the man, a scowl set on her face.

"Get Starrick's Soothing Syrup right here!" The man shouted, gesturing towards the crates behind him.

"It's all he drinks," the woman yelled. "Your Syrup is liquefying him. It's turning him simple-headed!"

She pointed towards a man sitting on a barrel, a dopey grin plastered on his face and glassy eyes staring at nothing. The man glared at her, stepping towards the woman while reaching into his pocket.

"Now, look now," the man sneered. "You are scaring away my costumers. Why don't you bugger off or I'll give you something to remember me by." 

The man pulled out a small blade, barely big enough to be considered an actual knife, but large enough to mortally wound someone if used correctly.

"You can't talk to me like that you guttering." The woman said, backing away slightly to avoid being cut open in case the man started swinging. The man seemed to have had enough, and moved towards the woman. Jacob and Alistair moved to separate the two, hoping to not have to use force to get the necessary information.

"What's all this, then?" Jacob asked, moving between the two. The man lunged at Jacob, who easily swatted the blade away before it got close to his skin. Alistair stepped forward, pushing the man back slightly before he could lunge again. The man tried to throw a punch, missing by a long shot as Alistair stepped back and his fist moved to far to the right to have made any contact in the first place.

"Sod off!" The man yelled, turning and fleeing the area. Jacob turned to the woman, setting a hand on her shoulder.

"If you'll excuse us, madam." He said, running after the seller with Alistair close behind. The two ran after the man, dodging and weaving between people as they passed by them. The man dropped down into a sewer, attempting to outrun his pursuers. 

"I'll meet you at the opening. Follow him." Jacob ordered, sprinting past the sewer entrance and towards the end of the tunnel. Alistair dropped down the hole, running after the man. He jumped across a few poles, slipping under bars and blockades as he ran through the sewer. As he neared the end of the tunnel, Alistair saw that Jacob, true to his word, was standing at the end. The man attempted to run past, nearly making it out before Jacob grabbed his shirt and threw him to the side. Alistair picked him up, shoving him against a nearby wall.

"Tell me where the Syrup originates." He said, shoving the man further into the wall. The man glanced behind him, fear filling his eyes. Alistar turned to see Jacob idly playing with handle of his kukri, the blade catching the light as he twisted it in his hands. "If you don't speak, my friend here will gut you like a fish and throw your body into the Thames."

This seemed to snap the man out of his fearful daze, as his eyes immediately snapped up towards Alistair and he started talking.

"All I know is that they make a run each day- between the gasometers and the Asylum." He said, attempting to shove Alistair away from him. Alistair let him fall, stepping away and watching as the man picked himself up and ran. Jacob put his kukri away, letting out a little laugh as the man tripped slightly.

"You can be terrifying, you know." He said, turning to his partner. Alistair just shrugged, walking away from the sewer opening and towards the street.

"It's probably because I tend to tower over almost anyone I meet." The other male explained, glancing at the twin.

"How tall are you, exactly?"

"5'11."

Jacob stumbled slightly, eyes widening as he stopped walking.

"You're 5'11?" Jacob spluttered, only now realizing the drasticness of the height difference between the two of them.

I wonder what it would be like to have him pressed against a wall- or to have him press me against a wall. Jacob thought. All of the sinful- yeah, nope. Stop thinking. Just stop.

"Got a problem with that, shortstack?" Alistair teased, bending down slightly to be eye level with the other assassin. Jacob rolled his eyes, shoving the other playfully before resuming his walking.

"I may be shorter, but I can still kick your ass in a fight." The twin retorted. Alistair followed behind, a small smile gracing his features.

He's a feisty one, I'll give him that. He thought, readjusting his guns as they walked. I wouldn't mind him having his way- why in the holy blue Hell am I thinking like this?

Alistair shook his head, clearing his mind before things took a turn and they ended up in a... compromising position. They made their way to the area the seller told them about, beginning to search the area for the distributer. Jacob found him first, talking with a few other Blighters as they made there way through an alley. Alistair climbed up the building next to them, keeping an eye on them from above and taking out any threats before they spotted Jacob.

One Blighter put up a fight, and Jacob tore his attention away from the distributer for a moment to watch as Alistair dodged the blows and punched the brute in the face. Well he was still getting his bearings back, Alistair slide his hidden blade across his throat, effectively finishing the fight. Jacob grinned and turned his attention back to the distributer, who thankfully had been talking with another Blighter the whole time.

With practiced stealth- something he did have, contrary to what Evie would say- he snuck behind the distributer, blending in with the crowd of workers around him. The note was in his pocket, easily accessible from behind. Jacob quickly dipped his hand in, grabbed the note, and pulled his hand out, turning and making his way back through the crowd before breaking into a sprint.

Alistair met him at the top of the building a little ways away. Jacob glanced over the note before sticking it in his pocket.

"The man in charge of the syrup distribution runs a fighting club at the foundry..." Jacob said, already walking in the direction of the building.

"Jacob, we aren't going to fight." Alistair said, flicking the side of the other assassin's head. "We kidnap him, get the information, and get out."

Jacob glared at him, but the playful tone of his voice gave away his true feelings. "You just have to take the fun out of this, don't you?"

⚔

The two males arrived at the foundry, the sun now farther along its journey through the sky. They had checked out the place earlier, kidnapping a Blighter and finding out that the distribution boss only showed up around late afternoon or early evening. Alistair suggested they wait for a little bit nearby, and Jacob quickly agreed, dragging the other male towards a nearby pub for some drinking. They carried an easy conversation while they nursed- much to Jacob's dismay- one pint each before setting off towards the foundry again.

"I'll go and grab the boss." Jacob stated, already searching for an entry point that wasn't the front door.

"I'll take out any Blighters that spot you." Alistair responded, quickly looking through the front entrance in order to spot the distribution boss. "There you are!" He stated, pointing out their target for Jacob to find.

They split off, Jacob heading to an open window while Alistair went through the front door. Being around so many Blighter brought back memories and reminded him of a time before he became an assassin, when everything was given to him on a silver platter because of who he was. He remembered when everyone knew who he was, was afraid of him and what he could do, and tried their best to stay in his good graces. 

Nowadays, he was glad that only the high ranking Blighters and Templars knew who he was. He could walk freely with his hood down when he pleased, passing by low ranking brutes with easy. That made missions like this easy for him, and brought him one step closer to taking down another leader, another bolt in Starrick's machine. 

Alistair took down a brute who had started to follow Jacob, easily setting his body on the floor before moving on to the next guy. Jacob easily grabbed the distribution boss, snagging him from behind and quickly leading him out of the building. The man attempted to wiggle his way out of Jacob's hold, but was silenced by a threat from the assassin behind him.

"I don't require a reason to end your life." Jacob murmured, shoving the man along as they exited the building. Alistair ended up taking out two more Blighters before meeting up with Jacob a short distance from the foundry.

"Where is the syrup made?" Alistair asked, fingers instinctively itching towards one of his guns. The man didn't talk, only wiggling slightly in Jacob's hold. The other male rolled his eyes, already done with Blighters for one day. He flicked out his hidden blade with his unoccupied hand, sliding it slowly along the distribution boss' arm, making his way towards his neck.

"Speak now or forever hold your-" 

"The distillery! It's the large building beside the brewery!" The man yelled, the edge of Jacob's blade just barely touching his Adam's apple. Jacob released the man from his hold, shoving him forwards. The assassins  watched as he ran back towards the foundry, his legs carrying him away from them and around the corner. 

Jacob turned to Alistair, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

"Now to stop Soothing Syrup once and for all." He said, before letting out a loud yawn. From his place beside him, Alistair let out an equally as loud yawn of his own. Both of them looked at each other, chuckling slightly.

"How about we do that tomorrow? We'd fall asleep before we got there." Alistair suggested. Jacob nodded, feeling the claws of sleep beginning to pull at his conscious. The two began the journey back to the train, bathing in the success of a mission well done.

Chapter Text

Jacob sank back into the chair in his private compartment, feeling the weight of fighting, running and kidnapping finally sinking into his bones. He propped his feet up on the table, tossing his hat to the side and sighing loudly. He left most of his gear on, save for his gun, which had been placed on the table beside him. Alistair, on the other hand, removed most of his gear, including his jacket. Placing the jacket on the coat rack, the mismatched male planted himself on the couch in front of the other male, throwing an arm over his eyes and taking a deep breath of air.

Jacob took a moment to take in the sight before him, hopefully before the subject in question took notice. Alistair only wore a basic white shirt under his jacket, the thinness of the material allowing Jacob to see the hard shapes of muscle and the dark splotches of what was possibly a tattoo on the other male's chest. In the dim lighting, Alistair looked almost godlike, the shadows dancing along his face and his blonde streaks seeming to dance in the light. If Jacob didn't know better, he would have thought that the man before him was a actually a god, sent to kill the Blighters with a flick of his hand and to sit in front of Jacob and make him want to do things one might consider sinful.

The silence that had formed between them was broken when Alistair removed his arm from his eyes and readjusted himself so he was facing Jacob, head resting in the crook where the arm of the couch met the back. The males looked at each other, hazelish-brown meeting green and brown. Something bubbled up inside Jacob, and he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth as he reached under the chair and grabbed his stash of alchohol.

"Why do you have two different colored eyes? Your hair is the same way." Jacob asked, taking a swig whilst passing Alistair another bottle. The other assassin took it, opening it and taking a long gulp before answering.

"Just the way I was born, I suppose. My father has black hair, but the rest of my coloration I guess I get from my mom's side."

Jacob furrowed his brows. "You guess?" Alistair nodded, taking another swig of the alcohol.

"Never met my mom. Father told me I was left on his doorstep with a note from her father. Apparently she didn't want me, said she couldn't raise a son in her line of work. Father didn't seem to care about my looks, though." Alistair replied, sitting up in his seat. "I guess all he cared about was having an heir to the family name. He'd flaunt me around like I was the most valuable thing on earth, taught me how to strike fear in the hearts of my enemies. I thought he actually loved me."

Jacob set his drink down, somehow the bottle was nearly empty even though it had been full a minute ago.

"What changed?" He asked. Jacob noticed that Alistair's bottle was as empty as his, even though it too had been full before.

"Have you ever fancied someone you shouldn't?" Alistair asked, taking a throwing knife out of his pants pocket and moving it between his fingers.

"Depends on your definition of fancied." Jacob replied, watching as the knife moved between Alistair's fingers with carefully practiced grace and precision.

"Like you want someone to press you against the wall and have their way with you." Alistair responded. Jacob remembered for a brief moments the thoughts he had earlier in the day about the male before him, feeling a blush creep along his cheeks. He nodded.

"Were they for a man?" Alistair asked, and Jacob nodded again, grabbing out two more bottles, passing one to Alistair. "My father found out that I fancied a bloke who worked for him. We had a screaming match, and eventually I told him that I didn't want to be like him, that I didn't want to be a part of what he was doing."

Jacob nodded along, remembering a fight he had with his own father a short time before his death. Ethan Frye was nothing if not disappointed in his only son. He was constantly comparing Jacob with Evie, and at one point things came to a head. After they stopped screaming and throwing objects at each other, Jacob had stormed out of the house and didn't return until dawn.

"I know what you mean." Jacob muttered. "My dad and I had a fight about a month or two before he died."

"The thing is," Alistair murmured, sipping at the alcohol in his bottle. "My father isn't a man to be messed with, and he hates the Assassins with a burning passion."

Jacob let out a hearty laugh, setting his bottle on the table.

"And look at us! We're the very thing your father hates!" Jacob chuckled. "And there's nothing he can do about it."

"You know," Alistair chuckled. "Your right. My father can kiss my ass, because I like being an assassin, and I like blokes! And it doesn't matter!"

Alistair stood up on wobbly legs, raising his bottle into the air as he made his declaration. Jacob followed suit, raising his bottle high.

"The only thing that matters is taking down Starrick and his Templars." Jacob declared.

"I'll drink to that." Alistair replied, before falling back onto the couch as his legs gave out from under him. Jacob stumbled over- when did I get drunk?, he thought- and plopped down next to him.

"Hello." Alistair mumbled, leaning over and resting his head on Jacob's shoulder. Jacob smiled, lifting his hand and running his fingers through mismatched hair. 

"Hey." He whispered back, toying with the ends of a blonde streak just above where the hair was shaved off. Jacob looked down, meeting mismatched eyes, and smiled.

"How'd you know you liked men?" Alistair asked, snuggling closer to Jacob, savoring his body heat.

"I guess it was after I had a one night stand with an old friend of mine." Jacob replied, leaning back so he was laying across the couch, bringing Alistair with him.

This is rather domestic, Alistair thought. How is Jacob so warm and soft, yet he has all of this hard muscle and could slit a man's throat with a flick of his wrist?

"You don't peg me as a one night stand type of guy." Alistar said. Jacob shrugged, before carefully removing his gauntlet around Alistair.

"I have standards."Jacob said, tossing the gauntlet to the side before sitting the other male up slightly and removing his other weapons. "And the one night stand wasn't planned, I was blackout drunk when it happend."

"Makes sense that a man like you would have standards. Got any for woman, or do you just like men?" Alistair asked, not particularly minding the slight manhandling. Jacob chuckled, tossing the rest of his stuff onto the table before he removed his jacket, laying it over the back of the couch 

"I like women plenty. But I've always had a specific type of man that I fancied." Jacob responded. "For me, a man's gotta be tall, doesn't take shit from anyone, willing to put up with my drunken and reckless ass, and they'd obviously have to an assassin."

"Those are some pretty good standards." Alistair said. A yawn tore past his lips, and he snuggled closer to Jacob.

So he's a sleepy drunk. Damn that's adorable, Jacob thought, rubbing Alistair's back in slow circles.

"You got any standards?" He asked, gently pressing in the other males shoulders, feeling the tension leave his muscles at the ministrations.

"I'd like it if my men didn't mind getting drunk, knew how to win a fight, and they'd have to be able to deal with me, drunk or otherwise." Alistar murmured, his eyes fluttering closed as Jacob worked a knot out of his shoulder.

"I like drunk you." Jacob muttered, his filter suddenly disappearing. "You're all cute and sleepy and cuddly. Like a little puppy." 

Alistair buried his head into Jacob's chest, hiding a blush. Jacob chuckled, sending vibrations through his chest. They laid there for god knows how long, just soaking in each other's warmth. Jacob went to ask Alistair if he wanted a drink of water- surely Agnes had some somewhere- but was met with the soft snores coming from his companion. Alistair's head was now resting in the crook of Jacob's neck, and his arms were wrapped limply around his companion. A soft caw sounded from next to him, and Jacob looked over to find Serpent resting on the back of the couch, black feathers shining slightly in the dim lighting.

The bird flew over to the table, landing on the top of Jacob's hat, nestling in before falling asleep. Jacob sighed contentedly, rubbing Alistair's back as sleep began to cloud his vision. Jacob rested his chin on the soft curls of Alistair's head, breathing in his scent of gunpowder, tea, and the residual scent of leather from his jacket. Jacob's eyes fluttered closed, and he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

A warm weight shifted under Alistair, something softly hitting the side of his head while whatever was wrapped around him tightened its hold. Blinking slowly, the male took in his surroundings, watching light cascade through the windows of the train car.

"Didn't mean to wake you." A voice grumbled beneath him, sending a rumbling feeling through its chest. Alistair tilted his head slightly, coming face to face with Jacob. Their faces were right next to each other, inches apart. Alistair's eyes flicked down towards Jacob's lips, before almost immediately returning his gaze back to Jacob's eyes. Without thinking, he leaned the short distance between them, placing his lips on Jacob's.

SHIT! What am I doing?, The male thought, pulling away quickly and nearly rolling off of the other male if it weren't for his arms wrapped securely around his companion. I can blame it on the alcohol, right? Or a hangover?

"I'm sorry!" Alistair said, moving his arms to shove himself off of Jacob. Jacob wrapped his arms tighter around the mismatched male, refusing to let him go.

"Alistair," Jacob murmured, forcing the male to look at him. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Alistair attempted to look confused, even though he knew full well what he had done. 

He probably doesn't even like me like that, he thought glumly. Jacob narrowed his eyes for a second before softening his gaze.

"The kiss," Jacob replied. "Did you mean it, or was it the leftover effects of the alcohol?"

Alistair sighed. Jacob had been training to be an assassin far longer then he had. He would get the truth out of him in a matter of seconds. Alistair buried his face into Jacob's shirt at his shoulder.

"A bit of both." Was his reply, although it came out slightly muffled. Jacob ran a comforting hand through Alistair's hair, much like the night before. Alistair moved his head to speak again, hoping to explain that he wasn't going to force the other male to do anything, and that his sleep-muddled, hungover brain had made the decision to kiss him, when a pair of lips found his. 

The angle was awkward, and their noses bashed together, but Alistair felt butterflies erupt in his stomach. He kissed back, pulling away when the angle of the kiss started to make his already sore neck hurt more.  Jacob smiled, a small smile that seemed to light up his face.

"If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked." Jacob muttered, sitting up and taking Alistair with him. After some slight readjusting, Alistair found himself seated firmly in Jacob's lap, the other male's arms wrapped loosely around his lower back. Their foreheads rested against each other, soft smiles gracing their features.

"How long have you wanted to kiss me?" Jacob asked, tilting his head slightly and pressing small kisses to Alistair's face, tracing the scar that ran from the top edge of his left eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and ended just under his right cheekbone. "We've only known each other for a day."

"Well, Jacob," Alistar replied softly, quietly gasping as Jacob pressed kisses to his jaw. "You tend to have a peculiar... effect on people."

"And what effect would that be?" Jacob pulled away, just enough to see Alistair's face clearly. The other male chuckled, leaning in a pressing a kiss to Jacob's forehead.

"I wanted to slam you against a wall when I first met you." Alistair stated, pressing another kiss to the space between Jacob's eyebrows. "And in a very sexual way."

Those words had an effect on Jacob, and Alistair watched in amusement as the other assassin's face flushed a bright red. Averting his gaze, Jacob attempted to hide his blush.

"Well if it helps, I've wanted to do the same." Jacob said, his blush becoming a few shades darker. Alistair chuckled, feeling his one face heat up at Jacob's statement. They faced each other once more, smiling as they shared another kiss.

"Where does that leave us?" Jacob asked when they broke apart. "We can't exactly shout about this from the rooftops."

Alistair shrugged. He stuck his bottom lip in his teeth as he thought before responded.

"We could keep it a secret. We can go about our lives in public, acting like this isn't a thing. And if things don't work out, no one has to know."

Jacob laughed, a good, hearty laugh that made Alistair smile wider.

"Oh, I fully intend on making this work." Jacob replied, pressing a kiss to Alistair's cheek. "But, as much as I'd like to continue what we're doing here, I believe we have a Syrup to stop."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Alistair asked, pressing another kiss Jacob's forehead. 

⚔

The two assassin's stood on the building across from the distillery, eyes scanning the building for easy access points. 

"The front door may be our best bet," Jacob said, using his eagle vision to scan the building another time. Alistair sighed next to him.

"We can't go waltzing through the front door. We'd get shot." The two continued to scan the grounds. From above, Serpent let out a caw, flying towards the door. The assassins watched as the bird flew above a man who appeared to be attempting to open the door. Alistair squinted, attempting to get a better look at the man.

"I might know that fellow." He commented, turning to Jacob. 

"How so?" Was Jacob's reply as he watched to man bash a rock onto the lock on the door, to no avail.

"He looks like a man Henry knows. Charles something. Larkwing? Darkfin, maybe?" Alistair said. "I've only met the man once."

Jacob was about to respond when a group of Blighters moved into their field of view. The man noticed them as well, and hid before he was spotted. Serpent flew back to the assassins, landing gently on Alistair's shoulder.

"Keep a sharp eye out, lads." One of the Blighters yelled. "Someone's targeting our network. The distillery may be next."

"This will complicate things..." Jacob muttered.

"We need to keep the old man from getting killed." Alistair stated. He shrugged his shoulder, and Serpent hopped onto his outstretched hand. "Distract those guys."

Serpent seemed to understand the order, and flew over to a stack of crates. As the group split into three smaller sections, the bird let out a loud caw, drawing the attention of one of the groups. The assassins raced down the building, quietly taking down the first two groups while the third was distracted by Serpent. Once the first two groups were killed, Jacob and Alistair turned their attention towards the last group.

"Bugger off, you dumb bird." One of the Blighters yelled, attempting to sway at the bird. Alistair snuck up behind them, stabbing them through the back and watching them fall lifeless at his feet. Serpent flew to his shoulder, rubbing his head along Alistair's neck. 

"Good bird." Alistair complimented, watching as Serpent took off and landed on a pole sticking out the side of the building. Jacob and Alistar made their way to the door, watching as, again, the man from earlier tried to open the door. Jacob rolled his eyes, flicking out his hidden blade as the man turned around. The man let out a gasp, eyes focusing on the blade aimed at his face.

"You should not go about frightening respectable gentlemen, young man." The man said, backing away from Jacob.

"I didn't realize snooping was considered gentlemanly." Jacob joked, sheathing his hidden blade. The man looked appalled.

"Snooping?" The man asked. "Sir I assure you-"

"Keep vigilant!" Someone yelled from behind them. Alistair turned and saw that more Blighters were entering the area. Without a second thought, he rushed forward and stuck his hidden blade into the lock, yanking down in order to break it. Quickly, Alistair opened the door.

"Quick! Inside!" He ushered, following the man and Jacob inside before slamming the door shut. The man let out a sigh of relief.

"That," he said. "Was too close a call." The men took in the distillery, noticing the machines around them. The older man turned towards the assassins, fixing them with a hard, angry gaze.

"You, young man, gave me quite a fright!" He said, pointing an accusing finger at Jacob. "I thought you were one of them, but I realize now why you're here. Same reason I am. I imagine..."

Alistair rolled his eyes, still slightly irked about having to save the old man. "I imagine..." was all he said in response before following the man as he walked deeper into the distillery.

"I believe I've found something, young man." The man motioned towards a large machine, gauges and knobs decorating the front. "A rather impressive contraption, wouldn't you say?"

"I've seen bigger." Jacob muttered, quickly looking over the machine in order to find an 'off' switch. The man walked over to a table littered with papers and bottles, reminding the assassins of Kaylock's old desk on the train. The man picked up a bottle, examining the contents.

"Datura Stramonium." He mumbled. "Or Devil's snare as it's commonly called... That goes into the syrup?" More shuffling around on the desk revealed more vials and bottles. "And opium, no less. Revolting! Absolutely sickening!"

The group of men moved towards the machine, inspecting all of the knobs. Before long, Alistair pointed out a large pipe that led further into the distillery, running along the floor like a hollow, metal snake. In a small storage like space in the corner of the building, the pipe turned upwards, heading towards the second story. The man took one look at the wheel attached to the pipe and chuckled quietly.

"A favorable way to proceed, wouldn't you agree?" He asked, turning the wheel. The pipe let out a loud hiss, green smoke beginning to billow around the men. "Oh dear."

"Find a way out of here! Quickly!" Jacob yelled over the hissing, waving the smoke away from his face.

"What about the other valves?" The man asked, moving away from the smoke and towards and exit.

"Take a wild guess." Alistair responded, pulling his jacket collar above his nose and mouth. The man seemed satisfied with the answer, though he still looked slightly apprehensive.

"Very well, young man." He sighed, turning and booking it out the exit, leaving the assassins to finish the job. They moved away from the smoke filled area, hiding behind another set of pipes. Taking in deep breaths of fresher air, Jacob glanced around for other wheels. Alistair watched as the other male's eyes flashed silver momentarily as Jacob activated his eagle vision. 

"There's 3 left. One on the top floor, one directly above us, and one across the building on the second floor." Jacob whispered, pulling his hood up.

"We each take one of the ones on the second floor and we meet at the top. Sound good?" Alistair responded, pulling his hood over his head and readjusting his gauntlets. Jacob nodded and they split up. Jacob ran across the building, finding a ledge he could grab onto to pull himself up to the second floor. As he hoisted himself onto the next level of the building, Alistair took a different approach.

The mismatched male took the stairs, hiding behind some shelves as a pair of Blighters passed by. The wheel wasn't far from where he was hiding so Alistair quickly ran across the walkway and towards the wheel. With a swift turn, the pipe hissed and, much like the one downstairs, billowed green smoke.

Back with Jacob, the other assassin had successfully reached his wheel, dodging the Blighters that seemed to be congregated around the area. Quickly turning the wheel, Jacob rushed to the stairs to the top floor. Alistair was already there, attempting to pull the last lever that would stop the machines.

"Need help?" Jacob asked as he wrapped his hands around Alistair's and pulled. The two yanked backwards, unsticking the lever, watching as the machines began to  shake violently, spewing more of the green smoke as they began to malfunction.

"Every man for himself!" Jacob yelled, running towards an open window and leaping out. Alistair followed behind him, jumping out seconds before the building caught fire. Landing on their feet, the two assassins ran down the street, passing workers and peasants as they gawked at the building. As they stopped to catch their breath, the man from before ran up to them, placing a hand on their shoulders.

"Well done, dear boys! Well done!" He said, removing his hands as the other males stood up. "Charles Darwin. Delighted to make your acquaintance."

"Jacob Frye. The pleasure's all mine." Jacob responded.

"You're Henry's apprentice, if I remember correctly." Darwin exclaimed, turning to Alistair. The male nodded.

"Always good to see you, Darwin." He replied. The other male turned, addressing both males before him.

"While you were busy wreaking havoc, I found this." Darwin said, handing the assassins a slip of paper. "It indicates that a sample of every batch has been sent to Lambeth Asylum."

Jacob took the paper, pocketing it before turning to his partner. "Oh, I wonder if it's visiting hours..." He joked.

"Don't be so hasty, Mr. Frye." Darwin informed. "Many people work at Lambeth, you wouldn't want to attract unwanted attention."

"Hmm, where's the fun in that?" Jacob asked. Alistar rolled his eyes, smacking Jacob's shoulder in annoyance.

"Not every problem can be solved by blowing things sky high." Darwin stated, gesturing quickly to the building behind them where the fire department was now attempting to put out the blaze. "Sometimes a little discretion is an order."

"Now, where have I heard that before?" Jacob joked, referencing his sister and her tendency to scold him for his lack of stealth.

Darwin looked towards the sky. "It's getting late. I will meet you at the asylum to continue our investigation." He said, turning and heading down the street. The assassins looked at each other before letting out quiet laughs.

"I believe that's our que to head back to the train?" Jacob asked, gesturing in the direction of the tracks. Alistair just shook his head, grabbing Jacob's arm and dragging him in the opposite direction.

"I have a better idea," Alistair suggested. "And it involves kicking ass."

Chapter Text

Alistar couldn't remember the last time he had been in a place like this. Sweat and blood filled the air like smell of horse manure on the streets, spectators cheering as men crumbled with each blow of a fist. Contrary to popular belief (mostly just Henry), Alistair did not like fight clubs. Sure, you could pick off a few Blighters every now and again when a few of the dumber ones decided to test their luck, but Alistair wanted his fights to make an impact. 

Jacob, however, was shaking with excitement. The raven haired male had pulled the dual-colored male to the front of the crowd, eager to watch the bloodshed. The only good part about coming here was seeing Jacob smile with each knockout. His grin would become wider, engulfing his face in a flashy show of teeth and excitement.

Through all of the yelling and sounds of skin hitting skin, Alistair heard a different noise. It almost sounded like ticking, but more... subdued, rhythmical even. Alistair moved away from Jacob, heading towards the alcove in the corner where the sound seemed to originate from. The ticking grew louder, and the male could pick out the melody that was playing over the noise of the fights.

Tucked behind some old crates was a little box, the melody coming from within. It was a cute little thing, the outside carved in almost perfect detail with flowers and little animals adorning the edges. Alistar closed the box, placing it in the deepest pocket of his coat. He made his way back to his partner, who was now chatting up a familiar face.

"Topping," Alistair greeted, patting the oddly dressed male on the shoulder as he returned to his original position by the ring. "Haven't seen you in ages, mate."

"Alistair!" Jacob cheered upon the return of his lover. "We were just talking about you!"

"Good things, nothing to bad." Topping added, readjusting his hat after one of the spectators behind him nearly hit it off his head. "I was telling Jacob about the time you took down all of my best fighters to prove a point to Henry."

Alistair chuckled, remembering the incident 2 years prior. It had started out as a simple argument between the mentor and trainee. Henry had told Alistair that his hand-to-hand combat was lacking, and Alistair, in a fit of anger,  had dragged the other male to a fight club not far from the shop, where he proceeded to beat every single once of Topping's champion fighters until Henry physically dragged him out of the ring. 

"Why don't you fight now?" Jacob asked, resting his hand on Alistair's bicep. "You would make a killing in there!" 

Alistair and Topping tensed, Alistair moreso than Topping. The non-assassin knew part of the reason the dual-colored male had stopped fighting, and knew it was a sore spot for the man.

"I think it's best you talk about this some other time." Topping attempted to redirect the conversation. "Besides, a few of your 'friends' decided to make an appearance, so I suggest you leave." 

The assassins looked over their shoulders,  watching as a group of Blighters entered ti club from one of the other entrances. Jacob and Alistair turned towards each other, nodding slightly before saying their farewells to Topping. The assassins moved away from the other man, skirting around the edge of the crowd in order to stay out of sight of the Blighters. 

The moment they were outside, Jacob pulled Alistair into a dark alleyway, avoiding the prying eyes of the city at night. The pair walked in relative silence for a while, scaling up at wall at the end of the alley and continuing their walk on the rooftops.

"I'm sorry if I said something wrong back there." Jacob muttered, breaking the silence that had settled between them while taking Alistair's left hand in his right.

"Your fine. I just don't like talking about it." Alistair responded, rubbing Jacob's knuckles as the train station came into view farther across the rooftops. The pair looked at each other, smiling like lovestruck teenagers.

"Race you back to the train!" Jacob shouted, sprinting across the rooftop. Alistair laughed before following his lover across the rooftops of London, unaware of the figure watching from the shadows.