(fic) Method of Inquiry part 5 Ezio/Leonardo

[squirrellysemantics]

Title: Method of Inquiry
Chapter 5
Fandom: Assassin's Creed 2
Pairing: Leonardo/Ezio
I do not own AC2 or its characters.
Rating NC 17 for this chapter
Warning: slash content (which also should go without saying), will eventually contain some bdsm elements.
Ubisoft owns all characters, not I

Summary:  A young Ezio spends time with this new artist his mother keeps going on about.

Set in-game prior to Uberto Alberti's betrayal.

Located here is Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
 
Feedback gratefully accepted.  Any comments and critique are always welcome.

Another scorching day of summer and Florence came alive to revel in it.  The streets were loud and raucous, every man, woman and child dressed in brightly colored, flamboyant attire that they would have been hard pressed to find themselves wearing on any other day. 

Vendors took the opportunity to hawk their wares and only added to the cacophony.  All manner of flavors were for sale- sweet and savory, delicately light or hearty and filling.  Delicious aromas were enough to tempt all who passed, offered up in trappings of boldest red or brilliant blue.

None of this was enough to tempt Leonardo, who ignored a twinge of regret as he pressed through the scene.  He worked his way into the ebb and flow of the crowd even as he worked his arm into the sleeve of his doublet.  He was not one to be so harried to run through the streets as he dressed, but today was far from normal.  There would be those who considered his behavior unseemly but he cared little.  Reaching Piazza Santa Croce before the trumpet’s call was all that mattered.

It had been six months since Il Magnifico had personally commissioned Leonardo to create today's spectacle and with it came one warning.

No delays.  No mistakes. 

Calcio in Livrea was a proud Florentine tradition; a tournament where the young noblemen of Florence represented each of four districts would meet with the goal of beating each other bloody over a small, round ball.    The game sounded like pure insanity to Leonardo's ears; no rules, no holds barred.  Plenty of blood and broken bones though as players did whatever they deemed necessary on their path to glory.

Leonardo had little inclination to follow such lunacy in the past, only knowing the red shirted men of Santa Maria Novella had beaten all comers quite literally in recent years and would again meet the blues of the Holy Cross in the finals match of his design.  A parade of drummers and flag bearers would lead the two surviving teams through all of Firenze to meet in front of the Basilica di Santa Croce, cobblestone streets packed with straw and dirt to create the perfect substrate for utter mayhem.  

It was Leonardo who had been chosen to create the ostentatious display.  The greatest of grandstands to the costumes for the drummer boys- the smallest of details were his responsibility.   Anything less than perfect would be seen as an affront to the House of Medici and those that offended Casa di Medici found themselves regretting it greatly.

“Permesso,” Leonardo said again and again as he edged through the crowd, dodging mothers too preoccupied with their brood and old men full of too much wine too early in the morning.  “Permesso.”

Six months of labor led up to today.  Leonardo had taken great care to be certain that all pieces of the puzzle were in place well before they were required.  Unusual for him, but it was his tendency towards procrastination that often kept him out of Il Magnifico's good graces.  Arriving late or not at all to an event of his making would likely not reflect well on the artist so Leonardo hurried along.

One would think that a fascination with clocks would lend itself to some sort of punctuality but this was hardly ever so.  Life was a beautiful thing, richly complex in all manner of ways that demanded his attention.

There was one thing in particular that fascinated him beyond all measure as of late. 

Just this morning at the edge of dawn, broad hands awakened him to say goodbye by tracing the line of his hipbone, a sinfully talented mouth forcing a laugh from him as it blew delicate puffs of air, stirring the fine hairs scattered around his navel –

Leonardo quickened his pace, amazed at how visceral his response was, almost losing himself in the memory once more. 

Since Ezio’s return from Bologna, they'd passed the time in as much easy conversation as gentle exploration, getting to know one another through simple talk, touch and taste. 

Dio mio.  It had seemed so fleeting but in truth they'd been near inseparable for the whole of two days. He sighed and continued onward.

Ezio had departed that morning at some ungodly hour, murmuring vague words of regret.  Before Leonardo was coherent enough to formulate a question, the soft whispered reassurances had him drifting back into sated sleep. 

It was the boisterous noise of the world outside his door that awakened him.  It was plain; the world had moved on without him. Today was the day. His work was about to come to fruition before all of Firenze without its creator in attendance.

With that, Leonardo barely made it into shirt and breeches before he rushed to remedy his foolishness.  Appearances meant little to him but his presence was no doubt required. Timeliness was key. He knew he had to focus on the task at hand, avoid getting caught up in memories of Ezio no matter how engrossing-

Half groan, half sigh- a note that was music to Leonardo’s ears when he kissed along the edge of an elegant collar bone-

Merda.  The wave of pure want could have knocked him to his knees.  It was not often that he was so overwhelmed by his desires. He took a moment to compose himself and continued.

Taking a small side street, Leonardo knew to avoid the bedlam of the Piazza itself.  No, he headed a back way, to the rear of the grandstands where the players assembled that he had specifically designed to keep free of crowds.  An easy route to cart off the injured that would undoubtedly be needed.

A quick hop over a gate and Leonardo was in the heart of the beast, the roar of the crowd giving it breath.  It appeared he had arrived right on time. The people were still filling row upon row of risers above him; full of excitement, eager for the game to begin.  Or blood to be shed, more like. 

It gave Leonardo pause, hand settling on the wooden truss of the grandstands to contemplate how he could best reach his patron’s location through the unruly crowd.  So absorbed was he that the gentle touch to the small of his back had him leaping out of his skin.

“You came,” was the pleased whisper in the artist’s ear. 

Heart finally settling back into his chest, Leonardo turned. “Ezio!”

The handsome young man was a surprising sight, almost unrecognizable in his unfamiliar attire.  Gone was his usual shirt and vest that hugged his form.  Instead there was a tunic of the purest red that matched the ribbon in his hair that he so often favored. Trousers were stripes of black and crimson trimmed in gold, looser at the waist to allow easy movement but slimmer over the calf to avoid any hindrance. 

Leonardo cursed his addled wits. Of course Ezio would be here; any able bodied noble’s son would be expected and Ezio was certainly more able bodied than most. 

Ezio was completely at ease, leaning in to share a quick confidence. “I would have thought you’d prefer to avoid today’s mayhem altogether but it is good to see you.”

“No, I have no love for violence,” he replied with a wry smile. “It is my work that brings me here today.”

“Work?”  The young man lit up, laying a hand close to the artist’s own to examine the wooden belly of the grandstands with renewed appreciation. “Is this one of your works?”

Leonardo couldn’t resist giving Ezio’s tunic a small tug.  “As is this.”

Eyebrows arched in surprise. “So you are responsible for these?”   Ezio let out a delicious laugh.  “This fabric- ugh.  This uniform is far too itchy.”  The rich voice dropped to a murmur for only Leonardo to hear. “I can’t wait to be out of it.”

The urge to grant Ezio his wish -right here, right now- shot through Leonardo like a bolt of lightning.

A harsh, high pitched voice cut through this instinctive flirtation.  “What a surprise!”

They were joined by a group of men all dressed in the team blues of Holy Cross, led by a swarthy man that was far too young for his face to be twisted up with such cruelty. “The game is about to begin and the Auditore run and hide.“

Ezio’s whole demeanor shifted into a wiry bundle of anger.  “Save it for the field, Vieri!” he snapped at the pack’s leader.  “That way I can humiliate you in front of an audience.”

“Bold words!” the brutish young man snarled back. “We’ll see who ends up humiliated.”   The crass young thing looked almost joyful at Ezio’s bristling behavior so he persisted. 

“Is he your new woman?” Vieri sneered, strutting before them like an alley cat spoiling for a fight.  “He’s very pretty.”

“Hold your tongue, stronzo!”

“Or is it the other way ‘round?” Vieri crowed, delighting in the effect he was having. Leonardo felt sick to his stomach when the crude young man turned his way. “Does the brutto bastardo bend over for you instead?”

Ezio was ready to explode; Leonardo’s restraining hand at his elbow the only thing stopping him. 

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Vieri relished his words as he continued. “I bet he moans for it like a whore-“

“And what would you know of whores?” A self-assured voice had everyone turning to the lean young man who sauntered over to join them.  He was dressed in red finery that matched Ezio. “Word is that even the whores refuse to take your florins.”

The resemblance in both look and demeanor was uncanny.  Leonardo knew Ezio had brothers; that the tension that radiated from Ezio vanished only confirmed this.

What was the elder’s name?  Yes, Federico.

Ezio’s brother was placid but for a twitch of trouble on his lips. “They say the Pazzi are so desperate that shepherds hide their flock when the Pazzi look to take a bride.”

It was Vieri’s turn to hover on the edge of explosion. “Succhiacazzi!”

The crowd around them turned deafening as a trumpeter blasted out a call.

A squat old man dressed in a shade of yellow that very much made him look like a lemon toddled up to them, either oblivious or uncaring at the tension hanging in the air.  “Gentlemen!  To the pitch please! Firenze awaits!”

The young men bristled at each other for a moment before following the lemon out onto the playing field.  This was far from over.

Ezio trailed behind, anger fading as he faced Leonardo.  “I’m sorry for that bit of unpleasantness.”

“Don’t let it trouble you,” Leonardo said in all honesty.  “I’ve crossed paths with men like him before.”  A pang of anxiety had him raising a hand to bar Ezio from leaving. “You will keep safe.  Won’t you?”

“Me?” A smirk came from the young man, loaded with mischief.  “I’ll be fine. It’s Vieri you should be worrying about.”  The confidence that Ezio radiated was washed away by a wave of doubt, a warm blush crawling up his cheeks.  “N..no.  Don’t even think about that worthless testa di cazzo at all… I mean-“

“Go now,” Leonardo interrupted, enamored with this flustering.  “Come back in one piece.”

Confidence restored, Ezio offered up a dazzling smile before he was off to rejoin his brother. 

Leonardo made his way to the view box that held his patron with no small amount of trepidation.  The two teams, red and blue, filtered onto the field to the crowd’s thunderous applause.  A cloud of ill will hung heavily between the teams.

Il Magnifico watched it all with a hawkish eye, wife at his side.  Leonardo found his arrival acknowledged with a simple nod.  “Leonardo.  How good of you to join us.”

The artist resigned himself to the usual pleasantries. “I hope you have found the festivities satisfactory so far, Signore.” 

A smile came to Lorenzo’s sharp features and brought with it a wellspring of relief.  “More than satisfactory.”

The two teams, twenty seven men apiece, were finally lined up for Lorenzo’s regal review.  The brothers Auditore were close enough to the view box that Leonardo could have easily chatted with them if he dared.  Ezio found him in the crowd and offered up another smile.  Leonardo was ready to return it but faltered when he saw Vieri watching them both with a keen eye.

In the middle of them all popped up the round little man that had broken up the incident under the grandstand, brandishing a ball of solid white.   “Gentlemen!” bellowed the lemon.  “Salute!”

Red and blue bowed to the royals as one before turning to bow to each other.  Even this held no respect.

 “Pompinaio,” whispered Vieri, loud enough that even Leonardo could hear, smiling his oily little smile that Ezio looked ready to remove by force if necessary.

“I have some words for your mother, Vieri,” Federico calmly whispered back. “Baaaa,” he bleated softly like a newborn lamb.  “Baaaa.” 

Vieri turned beet red.  His roar of “figlio di puttana!” was interrupted by the trumpeter’s call as the lemon tossed his ball into the air and the game began.

It was bedlam.

When it was said there were no rules in Calcio, it meant ‘no rules’.  Slapping, kicking, chokeholds.  Nothing was off limits and the players used this to the best of their abilities.  The only goal was to get the ball into their opposing team’s camp and deposit it into a wide net.    It was getting there through the tackling and thrown punches that was the challenge.

In no time at all the tunics that Ezio had found so uncomfortable were either shed or forcibly removed from the wearer as the battle got more intense.  The two Auditore brothers looked like they were where they belonged; muscled backs glistening with sweat as they joyfully did their share to do as much damage as possible. 

And what damage they did.  For a family of bankers the two brawled like demons, taking on all comers with ease as they defended a teammate during his charge to the net. 

The ball flew into its target cleanly; the first score of the match went to Santa Maria Novella and the crowd burst into cheers with red flags waving.

For a man with no love for violence, bearing witness to the devastation on the field was torture. Leonardo found himself trapped between horror and fascination at the raw physicality. In a strange way, the brothers Auditore were beautiful as the caused bloodshed.  Their movements were agile, graceful even; kicks and punches as elegant as the moves of any dancer.

The hour flew by. A score of 15 to 7 with only a few minutes remaining meant victory was assured for the red team and the Auditore brothers began to relax.  Still trying to defend their brethren from harm, the two began showing off; taking out opponents in spectacular fashion to the crowd’s gleeful appreciation.  The handsome men would preen and posture, clearly challenging each other though they could no longer be heard over the ruckus.  There was a glare of annoyance from Ezio when his brother nearly doubled over in laughter.  Federico made a few gestures, taking a moment to head butt an attacker with casual ease before resuming his discussion.

Ezio did not appear to appreciate his brother’s criticism. An opponent took one look at his dour expression and fled.  Not to be denied, Ezio sprinted after him to launch forward, becoming near horizontal almost a meter off of the ground to tackle the man in spectacular fashion. 

Getting to his feet, Ezio looked to his brother expectantly with his hands held wide.  Federico rewarded him with polite applause.

The crowd adored every second of it.

And where was Vieri?  Leonardo had noticed him ignoring his teammates as they were picked off one by one, keeping to the shadows to avoid attention.

Until now.

With minutes remaining, the Pazzi appeared to face off against Auditore, murder in his eyes.

The crowd went deathly quiet.

Leonardo was on his feet as he watched them circle each other, each man waiting, waiting. No good would come of this.

A blast of the trumpeter’s horn brought an end to the game.  Fans stormed the pitch, forcing the outright hostility to hide itself away. Ezio looked to Leonardo to share in the triumph, dismissing Vieri without a backwards glance as the crowds swept them away.

“Excellent work, Leonardo. You’ve done well.”

It took him a moment to realize Lorenzo was speaking to him, so intent he was on not losing Ezio in the sea of bodies.  “Thank you, Signore. Now if you’ll excuse me-” Leonardo barely answered before vaulting over the partition himself. 

Too many people.  Leonardo was pushed and pushed back as he made his way to where he had last seen the brothers Auditore. 

A sweaty arm wound its way around his waist for a bear of a hug.

“Victory!”  Ezio crowed, releasing the artist with a blazing smile.  It was impossible to not smile along with him.

“No thanks to you, brother!” Federico teased as he joined them, pulling a fresh tunic over his head.  He addressed his next question to Leonardo. “Did you see his technique?  So sloppy!”

Ezio stared daggers at his brother, though the flush that managed to suffuse his whole chest told another story. “Chiudi il becco!”

“I will not shut up!” Ignoring his brother’s discomfiture, Federico threw an arm around his brother’s neck as punishment, capturing him with a head lock. 

“You need more practice!” Federico insisted, dealing with his brother’s useless struggles by delivering a few hard raps to Ezio’s skull.  “But you fought well.”  Delivering a kiss to the crown of his brother’s head, Federico released him.  Ezio was pure scarlet, unable to meet anyone’s eye as he hastily threw on his tunic.

Out of nowhere Leonardo felt the weight of Federico’s scrutiny.

“You’ll have to excuse us both.  My brother has the manners of a pig,” Federico offered easily.  “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced, Messere-“

“Da Vinci. Leonardo da Vinci.”

“Oh. Oh!” The older Auditore blanched in realization. “A pleasure to meet you. Ezio speaks of you often.”

It was extraordinary how much this revelation warmed him but Leonardo could see Ezio turn utterly wretched at what his brother might say next.

“In good ways I hope,” the artist continued, more than bemused.

“Only the best.” Federico turned to his brother, fully contrite. “I should leave you two to your own devices.” He clapped a hand on Leonardo’s shoulder.  “Try to keep him out of trouble, will you?”

With that, the man was off, scaling the side of a building as if this was a task of no consequence.

Leonardo covered a cough with his hand.  “Your brother is most… entertaining.”

“He’s something all right. Exactly what I dare not say.” It was good to see Ezio laugh. “Shall we go? I’m famished.”

Together they wound their way through the city streets towards the workshop.  The crowds were still thick and unruly so the going was slow. 

“What of your teammates?”  Leonardo asked, pausing to allow an elderly woman to pass.  “The winners were to dine on a fatted calf tonight if I recall.”

"You remember correctly." Ezio played at being cool but there was a spark in the quirk of his lips. "But there’s other company I prefer to keep.”

Good lord, how could something so small inflame him so?  This man was entirely too addicting.  Leonardo might find himself consumed.

This was not such a bad thing.

Dinner was a tense affair but not in a bad way.  Drawn out silence was occasionally filled with mild pleasantries.  There were far too many small touches, too many small looks and Leonardo ached for it to be over. 

It was slow going to clear the table without a steady hand and the second the last cup was set aside, a body pressed against the back of him, hot, open kisses tasting the line of his jaw.

Seems he wasn’t the only one with an itch to scratch.

He twisted in Ezio’s grasp.  Face to face was what he wanted and his need for it was raw, primal. They worked each other’s mouths, teeth and tongues clashing, sometimes painfully but it mattered not.  Fingers twisted up in the other’s hair, it would take a force of nature to get them apart at this very moment.

They tumbled into bed somehow, neither sure how their tangle of legs coordinated to get them there. It was the frenzy to expose as much flesh as possible that forced their kiss to come to an end.

Ezio rolled onto his back, letting out a guttural groan of frustration as he struggled with the tie to his breeches. Leonardo was more than happy to help, biting at the skin just above the waistband as his fingers undid the knot.  Hmm.  The fabric was as uncomfortable as Ezio had said.  No matter.  This would be of little concern in just about- ah! 

He slid the offending garment down Ezio’s hips just as much as was needed to find the arousal straining to greet him. The sweat of the day’s efforts was heady, fanning the flames still higher, and there was no holding back.

The smooth head was in his mouth.  He could taste the salt, the musk, and he relished it as if it were the finest dish. Tongue curling around it, Leonardo applied the slightest of suction and simply that had caused a very different sort of groan.  Hands caressed the nape of his neck at his efforts though they shook with every twist, every bob.  How gentle Ezio could be, a startling contrast to the violence of morning. 

Perhaps that violence could be channeled into more productive ways.

Leonardo hoped to find out.

A deep breath and he engulfed the man to the root. The cry this earned him was a magnificent thing.  He came up and swallowed the cock again.  The twitch he felt in his mouth was gratifying but he had to hold off, very much wanting more. 

As he pulled away, Ezio turned almost frantic.  “Where are you… please!” he babbled, hands questing to Leonardo to touch anywhere he could reach.

“One moment.”

Leonardo fumbled for a vial at his bedside. There was something he would need. For all their intimacy, they had not gone this route yet together and for him it was a long time since his last. He let the oil warm in his hands and Ezio waited with hungry eyes. 

He straddled the young man’s thighs, trying to push aside how awkward he must look as he prepared himself.  There was an urge to keep it brief and he set about opening himself in a perfunctory manner but a hand on his hip stayed his hand.

Ezio carefully took the vial from Leonardo’s hand.  Together they watched Ezio pour some oil for himself.

His fingers were tentative at first, shorter and fatter than Leonardo’s own but Ezio watched his every move.  What caused a wince was eased away and not repeated.  Whatever earned him a sigh was done again and again until Leonardo was tossing his head, bucking under the feel of it. The small circles, the feel of more than one finger shifting inside him.  All of it in preparation and it was delicious.

He was ready.  Leonardo brought Ezio back to life with a few strokes before settling himself exactly where he wanted to be. 

They went slowly at first, Leonardo setting the pace with his impalement.  The feel of this was very different from a finger.  The stretch, the fullness- Leonardo breathed deep to let his body adjust.  Seconds, minutes, hours passed until he was seated fully and they both restrained themselves from thrusting like mad.

It started with a simple roll of his hips.  An undulating wave, a slow build up of pleasure. The roughness callused fingers against his skin added to it, Ezio’s hands roaming everywhere and anywhere as they moved together.  Through the haze Leonardo could see Ezio watching him closely, trying hard to commit every moment to memory.

Might as well make it a memory worth saving.

He leaned back, hand propping himself from behind to ride the magnificent man underneath him. The pace was under his control, savoring the hint of friction inside him.  There was a spot, good god, this was a wondrous spot that he angled himself to find with each movement.  The glide past had him shivering completely out of control, arms shaking under the strain of supporting his weight.

A shouted “merda!” slipped from Ezio’s lips with no real awareness that he had done so. The whole of him was whipcord tense, muscles straining as he trembled in his rigidity. “I have… have to move. Please!  Let me move.”

Oh dear.  This begging, this pleading-this was something Leonardo had never before heard from anyone.  And that it would come from this man, this Adonis who could have easily taken his pleasure by force if he so wanted.

It was the sweetest music.  He had to hear it again. 

But not tonight.  Tonight… tonight was more urgent, more primal.

In due time.

Leonardo fell forward, Ezio’s mouth on his as soon as he was within reach and they were back to an onslaught of teeth and tongue, this time with Ezio hot and hard inside him. “Yes,” Leonardo whispered into that full mouth. “Yes.”

That was all that needed to be said.  Fingers dug into his hips with just a hint of violence, pelvis driving upwards to meet his with such force that the only things that kept Leonardo where he was were the hands holding him there.

Ezio slammed himself home again and again, driving up, up, up.  A gasp of need accompanied each thrust and it took Leonardo a moment to realize these sinful noises were coming from himself.

There was a flurry of movement.  Between one thrust and the next, Leonardo found themselves reversed, his own body pinned to the bed with Ezio driving into him from above.  Even now in this frenzy, Ezio was searching for something with each thrust and he only found what he wanted when those wanton sounds again came unbidden from Leonardo’s throat.

The pace was rough and brutal and precisely perfect.

Leonardo was desperate for this to last, deliberately avoiding his own arousal, but the barest of touches had his orgasm ripping through him with little warning. He pulsed and quaked, wave after wave shooting out of him until he ran dry.  The thrusts within him that had slowed to ride out that pleasure resumed their previous rhythm and oh dio, dio mio Leonardo was impossibly on that fine edge all over again. The sweat dripping from Ezio’s brow tasted like nectar, that beautiful face twisting in the best kind of agony as Ezio came and came and came.

They lay together, a panting, weary mess, painting each other with small kisses until exhaustion dragged them into slumber.