That's fine OP, please feel free to take your time. :) I'll do my best to give you what you requested and make the smut not fail.
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"Ezio, you must relax," Once again, the artist found himself urging the assassin sitting so tensely upon the stool, as if he were waiting for something to attack him. Leonardo had seen his friend tense many times, most of them warranted - a guard attacking him, or Templars nearby. But this? This was not a time he needed to be tense. He was safe in Leonardo's studio, clothed and unharmed. So why was he sitting as if he expected a group of enemies to open the door at any second? "Ti prometto che Ezio, I will not hurt you!"
"I know that," Ezio answered solidly, eyes roving around the studio. Leonardo wondered what was going through his mind. Worry? Concern? Perhaps Claudia's words had induced something of the past? "It is not you I worry about Leonardo, but my own self. Pay it no mind."
Leonardo was no fool. He could read between the lines as well as any educated man, and knew that Ezio was hiding something, and had been for a long time. The artist held a hunch what it was, but dared not presume - not when tonight was so important. He had hoped to indulge in this quiet fantasy before then, but it was quickly becoming apparent that the drawing wouldn't go so smoothly. Sighing, the artist set down his brush and gestured Ezio off, grimacing as he noticed how his friend practically fled the room. Taking off his red beret, he threw it down on the floor and ran his fingers through his hair, sitting down hard on the stool Ezio had vacated.
If someone were to ask him about the more intimate relationships he had held in life, Leonardo would tell them truthfully that he hadn't had many. He had lain with a woman early on, as most young men did, but he hadn't felt the urge to do it again. Satisfaction had come only from his paintings it seemed; nothing else gave him the rush of energy like sitting down and painting for hours on end, meticulously working over details did. It was crazy, but Leonardo was comfortable with such things.
Of course, that first time with the woman had also been his last, but it had not been his last time engaging with someone in that matter. Later, once he had gotten some years under his belt, his curiosity had led him in a different direction. A direction that had been forbidden in the eyes of the law. Leonardo had laid with a man in the name of science; he had been curious about how such things worked. The man he had found had been well-versed in such things, pleasant and polite, utterly gentle as he showed Leonardo a different side of heaven, one that knew no gender, only happiness.
The instruction had left his curiosity sated, and Leonardo had returned to his work. Like his time with the woman, it had not been anything spectacular, nothing he truly felt the need to pursue. Of course, all of this had been early on, before Ezio had grown up. At the time, the assassin was still a young man hell-bent on receiving vengeance for his fallen famiglia. Leonardo had thought of him as nothing but a friend, and in some cases a son. He had watched with pride (and some distress) as Ezio threw himself into one fight after the next, sliced down his targets with ease, and grew into a man. It was only once Ezio visited him after becoming a man that Leonardo felt something completely different, and his view of the assassin changed.
No longer could Leonardo look at Ezio and think of him as a simple friend or a son. Yes, Ezio was still a friend, but he was patient and wise now, his presence commanding and calming in the same breath. Being in the same room with him was like being in a steam room, and the artist found himself under immense pressure to resist the temptation to test out another theory - did he want Ezio as more than just a friend? His body had been calling, screaming for Ezio, but his mind had been in disarray, confused as laws and morals slammed against wants and needs. It was one thing to pursue a subject over curiosity; it was another thing entirely to get involved with them. And given Ezio's line of work, becoming involved would be more danger than he had ever faced before.
Leonardo knew the risks, and didn't chase after the man. He pent up his desires, kept them away from their meetings together, and instead of leaning over and passionately kissing the man who had snared his heart on the lips, he had settled for hugging his friend, patting him on the back and quickly memorizing the feel of the warm body against his own. That day, Leonardo had sworn that someday he would capture Ezio's entire body on paper. He would run his fingers over the smooth muscles, feel the lines and curves on his body and kiss the various scars he had. He would do all these things, and more.
When he had died, that desire had stayed with him. Even now it tailed after his heels like a hungry puppy, whining and whimpering whenever Ezio drew near, reminding him of what he desired. His heart sang with relief when Ezio smiled, and his knees felt more than weak when the assassin gently touched him. When Ezio had taken him up on the roofs earlier, given him but a taste of his world, Leonardo had very well thought he might faint. The rush of leaping from such high places, of being above the crowd's eyes, watching but never being watched... it was purely addictive, and he longed for more. But it was as dangerous as kissing Ezio would be, and so he had merely pressed his nose to Ezio's back and shoulders and inhaled the sweet and spicy musk the man possessed.
But tonight, the only danger would be rejection. Tonight, Leonardo would corner Ezio and bare his feelings to the man, and pray that his desires would be returned. He had waited long enough, and the knowledge that he would soon be thrust into a different body and sent back to live again sent a rush of urgency down his spine. Tonight, during the celebration of Carnival, he would find Ezio and tell him. And then, god willing, he would finally give into his desires and see and taste and touch what he had been wanting to for so long.
FILL: Our Paradise 12/?
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"Ezio, you must relax," Once again, the artist found himself urging the assassin sitting so tensely upon the stool, as if he were waiting for something to attack him. Leonardo had seen his friend tense many times, most of them warranted - a guard attacking him, or Templars nearby. But this? This was not a time he needed to be tense. He was safe in Leonardo's studio, clothed and unharmed. So why was he sitting as if he expected a group of enemies to open the door at any second? "Ti prometto che Ezio, I will not hurt you!"
"I know that," Ezio answered solidly, eyes roving around the studio. Leonardo wondered what was going through his mind. Worry? Concern? Perhaps Claudia's words had induced something of the past? "It is not you I worry about Leonardo, but my own self. Pay it no mind."
Leonardo was no fool. He could read between the lines as well as any educated man, and knew that Ezio was hiding something, and had been for a long time. The artist held a hunch what it was, but dared not presume - not when tonight was so important. He had hoped to indulge in this quiet fantasy before then, but it was quickly becoming apparent that the drawing wouldn't go so smoothly. Sighing, the artist set down his brush and gestured Ezio off, grimacing as he noticed how his friend practically fled the room. Taking off his red beret, he threw it down on the floor and ran his fingers through his hair, sitting down hard on the stool Ezio had vacated.
If someone were to ask him about the more intimate relationships he had held in life, Leonardo would tell them truthfully that he hadn't had many. He had lain with a woman early on, as most young men did, but he hadn't felt the urge to do it again. Satisfaction had come only from his paintings it seemed; nothing else gave him the rush of energy like sitting down and painting for hours on end, meticulously working over details did. It was crazy, but Leonardo was comfortable with such things.
Of course, that first time with the woman had also been his last, but it had not been his last time engaging with someone in that matter. Later, once he had gotten some years under his belt, his curiosity had led him in a different direction. A direction that had been forbidden in the eyes of the law. Leonardo had laid with a man in the name of science; he had been curious about how such things worked. The man he had found had been well-versed in such things, pleasant and polite, utterly gentle as he showed Leonardo a different side of heaven, one that knew no gender, only happiness.
The instruction had left his curiosity sated, and Leonardo had returned to his work. Like his time with the woman, it had not been anything spectacular, nothing he truly felt the need to pursue. Of course, all of this had been early on, before Ezio had grown up. At the time, the assassin was still a young man hell-bent on receiving vengeance for his fallen famiglia. Leonardo had thought of him as nothing but a friend, and in some cases a son. He had watched with pride (and some distress) as Ezio threw himself into one fight after the next, sliced down his targets with ease, and grew into a man. It was only once Ezio visited him after becoming a man that Leonardo felt something completely different, and his view of the assassin changed.
No longer could Leonardo look at Ezio and think of him as a simple friend or a son. Yes, Ezio was still a friend, but he was patient and wise now, his presence commanding and calming in the same breath. Being in the same room with him was like being in a steam room, and the artist found himself under immense pressure to resist the temptation to test out another theory - did he want Ezio as more than just a friend? His body had been calling, screaming for Ezio, but his mind had been in disarray, confused as laws and morals slammed against wants and needs. It was one thing to pursue a subject over curiosity; it was another thing entirely to get involved with them. And given Ezio's line of work, becoming involved would be more danger than he had ever faced before.
Leonardo knew the risks, and didn't chase after the man. He pent up his desires, kept them away from their meetings together, and instead of leaning over and passionately kissing the man who had snared his heart on the lips, he had settled for hugging his friend, patting him on the back and quickly memorizing the feel of the warm body against his own. That day, Leonardo had sworn that someday he would capture Ezio's entire body on paper. He would run his fingers over the smooth muscles, feel the lines and curves on his body and kiss the various scars he had. He would do all these things, and more.
When he had died, that desire had stayed with him. Even now it tailed after his heels like a hungry puppy, whining and whimpering whenever Ezio drew near, reminding him of what he desired. His heart sang with relief when Ezio smiled, and his knees felt more than weak when the assassin gently touched him. When Ezio had taken him up on the roofs earlier, given him but a taste of his world, Leonardo had very well thought he might faint. The rush of leaping from such high places, of being above the crowd's eyes, watching but never being watched... it was purely addictive, and he longed for more. But it was as dangerous as kissing Ezio would be, and so he had merely pressed his nose to Ezio's back and shoulders and inhaled the sweet and spicy musk the man possessed.
But tonight, the only danger would be rejection. Tonight, Leonardo would corner Ezio and bare his feelings to the man, and pray that his desires would be returned. He had waited long enough, and the knowledge that he would soon be thrust into a different body and sent back to live again sent a rush of urgency down his spine. Tonight, during the celebration of Carnival, he would find Ezio and tell him. And then, god willing, he would finally give into his desires and see and taste and touch what he had been wanting to for so long.
Only then would he be able to go on in peace.