The hand twitched and withdrew. Ezio's eyes snapped open at the loss and followed it as it drew up to Leonardo's face. He was shocked to find it wiping away tears, Leonardo's other non-dominant hand reaching out to take it's place. Ezio stood and rushed around the table to sit on the other side, next to Leonardo. As he sat down he found his arms full of artist, his back twisted awkwardly to embrace him. Distantly a part of him wondered if the tears were of anger, but he found himself unable to care. He took Leonardo's hat from his head and placed it on the table and carded his fingers through his hair, trying his best not to tug painfully at knots.
“If you aren't careful, you'll start to make me cry, as well.” He murmured before pressing his lips to the crown of Leonardo's head. The shuddering lessened, hiccups dying away and then Leonardo's face arose with the tilting of his head, reddened and desperate. Ezio could see how Leonardo's eyelashes clumped with moisture and his eyes were glassy and red. Hesitantly he leant forwards until their breath collided and their noses bumped.
He wondered; would kissing someone with a beard as long as Leonardo's be scratchy or uncomfortable? Or would it tickle, provide an interesting texture?
Their lips touched briefly and he twitched, breath hitching. Leonardo's eyes still bore into his own, brilliant blue and glazed. Their breath was ragged, their foreheads leant against one another. Ezio wet his lips nervously, tongue just brushing the top lip of the inventor, who sighed out a deep breath with a hint of sound before covering his eyes with delicate eyelids and pressing against the assassin. They kissed. Ezio froze, shivered and melted with a groan, his own eyes screwing closed.
The beard? It was perfect.
His hands, already buried thickly into Leonardo's hair, moved to cup his jaw, lips pressed wetly and deliberately against others. It was slow and heart wrenching and the angle of his back was uncomfortably twisting him and straining at his muscles but it just didn't matter because Leonardo was kissing him and he was kissing back, and in his chest carnivale was being held, opening his heart to pour euphoria up and skywards.
Leonardo broke away and gave a frustrated groan, pulling away to pull his legs over the bench and then over Ezio's thighs, and the next thing he knows is that Leonardo is in his lap and raining kisses down on his face with surprising speed before pressing once more to his lips.
“You, as well.” He hears and feels muttered against his skin and for a moment he can't think as to what Leonardo was speaking about. But then it came back to him and a strange mixture of relief and joy washed over him, drawing from his lips some desperate sound between a groan and laugh. And they kiss again, long and slow and deep until the candles have lost almost a fifth of their original size and Leonardo's knees are aching with the prolonged and cramped position, so he stands and cracks them, wincing.
FILL [4.e/5]
“If you aren't careful, you'll start to make me cry, as well.” He murmured before pressing his lips to the crown of Leonardo's head. The shuddering lessened, hiccups dying away and then Leonardo's face arose with the tilting of his head, reddened and desperate. Ezio could see how Leonardo's eyelashes clumped with moisture and his eyes were glassy and red. Hesitantly he leant forwards until their breath collided and their noses bumped.
He wondered; would kissing someone with a beard as long as Leonardo's be scratchy or uncomfortable? Or would it tickle, provide an interesting texture?
Their lips touched briefly and he twitched, breath hitching. Leonardo's eyes still bore into his own, brilliant blue and glazed. Their breath was ragged, their foreheads leant against one another. Ezio wet his lips nervously, tongue just brushing the top lip of the inventor, who sighed out a deep breath with a hint of sound before covering his eyes with delicate eyelids and pressing against the assassin. They kissed. Ezio froze, shivered and melted with a groan, his own eyes screwing closed.
The beard? It was perfect.
His hands, already buried thickly into Leonardo's hair, moved to cup his jaw, lips pressed wetly and deliberately against others. It was slow and heart wrenching and the angle of his back was uncomfortably twisting him and straining at his muscles but it just didn't matter because Leonardo was kissing him and he was kissing back, and in his chest carnivale was being held, opening his heart to pour euphoria up and skywards.
Leonardo broke away and gave a frustrated groan, pulling away to pull his legs over the bench and then over Ezio's thighs, and the next thing he knows is that Leonardo is in his lap and raining kisses down on his face with surprising speed before pressing once more to his lips.
“You, as well.” He hears and feels muttered against his skin and for a moment he can't think as to what Leonardo was speaking about. But then it came back to him and a strange mixture of relief and joy washed over him, drawing from his lips some desperate sound between a groan and laugh. And they kiss again, long and slow and deep until the candles have lost almost a fifth of their original size and Leonardo's knees are aching with the prolonged and cramped position, so he stands and cracks them, wincing.