As if that will somehow make it better, he thought as he allowed Ezio to move in for another kiss, this one a little calmer than before. It seemed Ezio was a quick learner as he sucked lightly on Leonardo's tongue when it delved past his lips. Leonardo briefly wondered what it would be like to have that mouth on him, running his fingers through dark tresses as he lazily pushed in and out of slick warmth. He broke the kiss to take another steadying breath and Ezio buried his face against his neck again.
“I brought, um, 'stuff',” he said, his voice muffled. Leonardo frowned in confusion.
“What?”
Ezio made a small huffing sound and pushed his teacher back a step so he could turn and reach for his bag. Leonardo just stared in dumb silence until the young man straightened and held out what he'd referred to as “stuff”: a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Ezio's cheeks were bright red as he handed the items over and Leonardo decided it would be better not to ask how he'd known. Instead, he set them to the side and cupped Ezio's face, losing himself in another long, slow kiss as he thought of how to proceed.
A splash of color at the corner of his eye reminded him of the forgotten pastels. He thought of the equally-ignored painting and suddenly felt a wicked idea take root in his mind. He smiled as he released Ezio and patted the desk.
“Hop up and lay back. Yes, on your elbows, like that,” he instructed, maneuvering the young man until he was lying half-propped up, his legs hanging over the front of the desk, spread so that his teacher stood between them. This made the bulge in Ezio's jeans even more apparent and Leonardo indulged him by giving a squeeze as he bent over for a reassuring kiss. He had to put a hand on Ezio's chest to prevent him from following when he straightened.
“You wanted help with your technique, didn't you?” he asked and chuckled at the now-embarrassed flush that warmed his student's face. Perhaps the project had just been an excuse to get his teacher alone but Leonardo saw a delightful opportunity to tease the young man spread out before him.
He slid his hand down Ezio's chest, watching how those golden-brown eyes fixed on it in anticipation of where it was headed, but when he reached Ezio's waist he stopped. Instead of continuing further, as Ezio no doubt wanted, Leonardo slid both hands under Ezio's t-shirt and pushed the fabric up, revealing tanned skin and lean muscles. There was a small patch of dark hair on his chest and a thinner trail that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans, but still plenty of space for what Leonardo intended.
“You seem to have the basics down,” he continued, reaching for a pastel stick at random and pleased to see he'd picked red. It was a broken piece with the wrapper missing and one side completely flat. Ezio's eyes followed as he brought the stick over to press against his stomach, above his navel. With brisk strokes, Leonardo began to make a circle about the size of his fist, smiling when Ezio twitched as if it tickled. When he was finished, he met his student's gaze.
“Look at the painting.” Ezio stared at him as if he'd lost his mind but when Leonardo raised an eyebrow and waited patiently, Ezio looked over at his project. Leonardo set the stick he'd been using back in the box and selected brown this time. As he leaned over again, he let his right hand rest lightly against the outline of Ezio's erection and felt him shiver in response. He was pleased when his student kept his eyes on the painting. “Now, what do you remember about feathering?”
“Short, light strokes. Gives vibrancy to a picture,” Ezio answered quickly and his eyes darted to Leonardo's as if seeking approval for his answer. Instead, his teacher just waited until he looked again at the painting. A moment later he groaned, though not in pleasure, and his head fell back. “Don't blend.”
“Good,” Leonardo murmured and gave a massaging squeeze with his right hand, even as he made short strokes with the edge of the pastel stick. Ezio seemed to melt under the attention, though his stomach twitched again at the touch of the pastel.
Fill - After-school Lessons 4/?
“I brought, um, 'stuff',” he said, his voice muffled. Leonardo frowned in confusion.
“What?”
Ezio made a small huffing sound and pushed his teacher back a step so he could turn and reach for his bag. Leonardo just stared in dumb silence until the young man straightened and held out what he'd referred to as “stuff”: a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Ezio's cheeks were bright red as he handed the items over and Leonardo decided it would be better not to ask how he'd known. Instead, he set them to the side and cupped Ezio's face, losing himself in another long, slow kiss as he thought of how to proceed.
A splash of color at the corner of his eye reminded him of the forgotten pastels. He thought of the equally-ignored painting and suddenly felt a wicked idea take root in his mind. He smiled as he released Ezio and patted the desk.
“Hop up and lay back. Yes, on your elbows, like that,” he instructed, maneuvering the young man until he was lying half-propped up, his legs hanging over the front of the desk, spread so that his teacher stood between them. This made the bulge in Ezio's jeans even more apparent and Leonardo indulged him by giving a squeeze as he bent over for a reassuring kiss. He had to put a hand on Ezio's chest to prevent him from following when he straightened.
“You wanted help with your technique, didn't you?” he asked and chuckled at the now-embarrassed flush that warmed his student's face. Perhaps the project had just been an excuse to get his teacher alone but Leonardo saw a delightful opportunity to tease the young man spread out before him.
He slid his hand down Ezio's chest, watching how those golden-brown eyes fixed on it in anticipation of where it was headed, but when he reached Ezio's waist he stopped. Instead of continuing further, as Ezio no doubt wanted, Leonardo slid both hands under Ezio's t-shirt and pushed the fabric up, revealing tanned skin and lean muscles. There was a small patch of dark hair on his chest and a thinner trail that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans, but still plenty of space for what Leonardo intended.
“You seem to have the basics down,” he continued, reaching for a pastel stick at random and pleased to see he'd picked red. It was a broken piece with the wrapper missing and one side completely flat. Ezio's eyes followed as he brought the stick over to press against his stomach, above his navel. With brisk strokes, Leonardo began to make a circle about the size of his fist, smiling when Ezio twitched as if it tickled. When he was finished, he met his student's gaze.
“Look at the painting.” Ezio stared at him as if he'd lost his mind but when Leonardo raised an eyebrow and waited patiently, Ezio looked over at his project. Leonardo set the stick he'd been using back in the box and selected brown this time. As he leaned over again, he let his right hand rest lightly against the outline of Ezio's erection and felt him shiver in response. He was pleased when his student kept his eyes on the painting. “Now, what do you remember about feathering?”
“Short, light strokes. Gives vibrancy to a picture,” Ezio answered quickly and his eyes darted to Leonardo's as if seeking approval for his answer. Instead, his teacher just waited until he looked again at the painting. A moment later he groaned, though not in pleasure, and his head fell back. “Don't blend.”
“Good,” Leonardo murmured and gave a massaging squeeze with his right hand, even as he made short strokes with the edge of the pastel stick. Ezio seemed to melt under the attention, though his stomach twitched again at the touch of the pastel.