"What are you doing here all day long anyway?" Ezio poked his head over Altair's shoulder, seeking to examine the other's papers. He couldn't understand how it was possible to sit hunched over the desk for almost twelve hours without moving an inch during all this time.
"My work would not interest you". Altair didn't avert his eyes from the text before him. Scribbling intensively, he sometimes stopped, when a new thought invaded his brain, then he carried on. It would seem that Ezio's constant nagging made no impact on the other. The older man was giving all his attention to the current task and it was clear that Ezio was not on his priority list right now.
Frowning, the Italian assassin quickly scanned the text. "These sentences make no sense," he muttered under his nose. "Altair, what is this nonsense?" His wide gestures followed his words, strengthening the impression of confusion also showing his Italian legacy quite obviously. Ezio's inquiry sounded more like a demand than a question. However, receiving no response but the sound of Altair's continuing writing, he asked again.
"Altair."
Silence.
"Altair".
If nothing he was persistent.
"Altair!" his shout seemed to wake the other man from his trance.
"For goodness sake, what is it?" he snapped. By now it was rather visible that Altair took his work very seriously.
Paying no mind to his tone, Ezio was glad to finally have caught his attention. "I was asking what this absurdity was about," he pointed to a bunch of papers scattered across the desk. Some of them were stained with ink and wax, while others were flawless and placed neatly in one place. The current page still hadn't dried out, and by the appearance it was one of the tidy ones.
Altair took one of the pages from his neat heap and waved it angrily in front of the Italian, "this absurdity as you called it is what will help future assassins to find the Apple, which may I remind you, you hid not so long ago."
"And how exactly will these papers help?" he was eyeing the sheet suspiciously, not sure of its abilities to guide anyone anywhere, let alone to the hideout of the Apple.
"Look more closely to the text", was all Altair said. He was beginning to get really annoyed, not only because of the interruption, but also because of the fact that he will be forced to explain his ideas to the other man and waste his precious writing time even more. He didn't speak out loud, but he really hoped Ezio will get the concept by himself.
Clasping the extended sheet, he began to read more closely. Altair observed the other man. At first the Italian's pupils were dancing from one side to the other, sometimes his eyebrows furrowed while reading a particular part. Altair liked when Ezio looked like this. The concentration and attentiveness suited him. His young blood and enthusiasm were nothing compared to this in Altair's eyes. Too bad the Italian was more of a flighty type. "Riddles!" Ezio exclaimed, reading further and the look of impression was becoming more and more visible on his face. That really boosted Altair's ego. After finishing with the reading, the Italian raised his eyes to Altair, "but that's not all, is it?" The Syrian assassin let a small smirk creep on his lips "no."
"How long have you been planning all this?" Ezio's fascination continued to fuel Altair's self-esteem. He turned in his chair, now completely facing Ezio, "I have made some basic preparations already, but I'll need your help in order to finish the whole thing."
This raised Ezio's curiosity. Giving back the paper, he asked, "What will you have me to do?"
"You'll see in time." He snatched the paper from Ezio's fingers putting it back to its place and prepared to carry on with his task once again. It was Altair's way of showing that the conversation was over, and that Ezio should leave him alone. However, Ezio was less than satisfied with the length of their interaction. So he proceeded to take a chair from a corner of a room and sat in front of Altair. This caused the Syrian to look up. "I want to help you." Altair only raised his eyebrow, but said nothing, leaving the talking to the younger assassin. "What?"
"What's with the sudden wish to assist me?" He knew better than that. Ezio would not offer his help without any gain for himself.
"Is it so wrong to give a helping hand for a friend?" Shuffling through the messiness of a desk, he was trying to find a clean sheet of paper.
Altair narrowed his eyes. The innocent tone in Ezio's voice meant nothing good.
"Spill it already"
Ezio stopped rummaging for a moment, sighing he admitted his defeat. Altair could read any man like an open book. "With my help you'll accomplish this task quicker. And then I may be able to drag you outside. Just look at yourself", he was flailing his hands in the empty air around him, trying to prove his point, "you've been sitting here for hours; you probably obtained a thick layer of dust during this time."
The older assassin cast his eyes down to the text, continuing with the writing "I don't like this town. The atmosphere and people affect me in a negative way. I'd rather stay inside until this task is finished. Once I'm done, I'll head out to the south as far from here as possible."
"Hm. And I'm rather fond of this place", Ezio said dreamily putting his arms behind his head, and stretching a bit. "Sun is constantly shining, villagers don't know anything about assassins or their purposes, and the food here is absolutely delicious."
"Just don't fall out of shape with all those tasty meals, or else you won't be able to climb anywhere without a ladder."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he poked his stomach "you think I'm fat?"
Altair sighed; this constant blabbering will get him nowhere. How is he supposed to think of riddles and codes, when the fool in front of him can't shut his mouth for even a minute? "All I'm saying is that you should keep an eye on your eating habits."
"You didn't answer my question," complained Ezio.
This was hopeless. Altair was losing his patience. Sigh. "No, Ezio, I don't think you're fat." He heard a grunt of acceptance. Good. Maybe he'll remain silent for a while now. In any case, just ignore him, keep on writing. Let's see, what could be the next hint into the Apple's powers..?
"What do you think of me?"
Crap. The grip on his pen tightened, his patience was running thin. Maybe if he threw the pestering Italian outside this room he'll be left in peace? No, he had to approach this matter differently "What's with all these feminine questions? Have you been in women's company for so long that you turned into one? Surely those whores had influenced you in many ways." His biting remark affected Ezio. The said assassin abruptly rose from the chair and approached Altair. Smashing his fist near Altair's writing hand he made him look Ezio in the eye. "Your assumptions are false."
"Is that so?" Altair turned away; he wasn't afraid of Ezio. The dog might bark, but it won't bite.
"Those sluts mean nothing to me."
"Really", paying no mind to the anger in Italian's voice or body language, he started drawing a scheme. Maybe he should include some drawn clues too...
"You know what I am talking about", he said (and as Altair expected) already regaining his composure returned to his place at the other side of a desk.
Now, where did he stop? Ah yes, how to describe the secret entrance on the roof in other words…
"Altair!"
Keep calm. Don't let him provoke you. Remember what you were taught.
"Altair!"
"…"
"Altair!"
"Yes?" he tried to sound calm through his gritted teeth.
"Don't you dare to ignore me."
That's it. That was the last drop. "Ezio, you of all people should understand the importance of my task. These hints and riddles might save future generations as well as our creed. The Apple is not a toy, and everything that involves this deathly weapon in any way should be considered as serious as the Apple itself. And yet you bug me with your meaningless questions and complaints, preventing me from finishing this responsible work. In fact, weren't you supposed to help me, instead of holding me back? If you aren't capable of doing so, please be kind and get the hell out!" his anger was overflowing, and every bit of it was directed to Ezio. Once he had finished his face was hot and he did not dare to look Ezio in the eye. Instead, he focused on his papers that were desperately begging for his attention.
After a long and awkward silence Ezio mumbled something along the lines of "I've heard enough" though Altair could not be sure if he had heard correctly. With a corner of his eye, he saw Ezio calmly rising up from his seat and leaving the room.
Peace at last.
Covering his eyes with one palm he rubbed his eyes, trying to ease his angry mind. Maybe he was too harsh on the younger assassin, but his job required peace and quiet, and the Italian was anything but that. Since when did he become so grumpy and short tempered? The responsibilities lay on his shoulders and he was becoming both tired and dissatisfied with this position. His youthfulness had to be forgotten, and he was mentally turning into a querulous old-man already. The man knew that Ezio was his only friend, overlooking his flaws and reminding Altair, that he was young even if he didn't feel like that at all. He should be grateful for the Italian's efforts, and what he did? Shoved him off. Well done, Altair, well done.
Such thoughts accompanied him for the rest of his work. Time was passing by, and the pile of papers grew bigger and bigger. Thinking of new riddles and clues, codes and schemes took its toll on the dedicated man; however with the final stroke of a pen he finished the last page. Putting everything aside he leaned into his chair and stretched. Cracking joints had never felt so good. His muscles were screaming for some kind of a physical activity. Standing up Altair looked through the window. Sun was setting down. How long was he working? He had lost the conception of time. Looking at the reddening sun his thoughts returned to Ezio. Where was that annoying man? Surely he had occupied himself somehow. He didn't want to think about that, but the instant thought was associated with a lovely company of the fallen women. Turning from the light of a setting day, he made his way to the door, intending to either find Ezio or to practice some combat moves outside the town. As soon as he opened the door he saw Ezio standing in the doorway, prepared to open the door himself. Lightly surprised Altair was the one to speak.
"What brings you here?" He didn't intend to sound so cold, but the earlier thought about Ezio still disturbed him. And rumpled Italian's clothing and disheveled hair only stimulated his recent theory. Who dared to touch the Italian in any way? The thought that some filthy hands caressed the other man's skin, that some revolting woman was making him aroused and needy, boiled Altair's blood.
"I was going to check if you were still working," Ezio eyed the man in front of him, "apparently not."
"Had a good time?" the tune of jealousy was apparent in Altair's voice, by now he couldn't control the appearance of disgusting images in his mind.
Ezio blinked few times, raising one eyebrow, oblivious to Altair's thoughts. Squinting in suspicion, he slowly broke the silence, "what are you saying?"
"Did the sluts pleasure you so well that you've lost ability to think?" Harsh words spilled from his mouth. He could not help it. Imagination was fueling him; it was one to talk about Ezio's adventures and mock him about that, and the whole different matter to see the visible evidence of the Italian's recent accomplishments. Where was this jealousy coming from? It's not like him to throw a tantrum.
"Are you jealous?" Ezio was beginning to understand what this was all about. Suddenly realization dawned on him, "You think I'm doing nothing else, but making out with every prostitute in town?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
It was a mental slap, he knew. But Altair's mind wasn't in time with his tongue and he had no control over his words. He was prepared for the blow that was surely coming to him.
However Ezio did not seem to be raging in any way. In fact he was getting closer to the older assassin, putting his arms around the other's waist and resting his forehead against Altair's collarbone. Needless to say, Altair was startled. He scrunched his nose in disgust, thinking that those arms had embraced someone else not so long ago. He made no move to hug Ezio back, or show any kind of response to his actions. Blowing warm puffs of air into the other's neck Ezio asked calmly, "Altair, what's the matter?"
The closeness of their bodies made Altair sick in the stomach. The warmth coming from the Italian felt tainted and alien to him. Did the woman warm him up so much? They have probably shared a very strenuous rendezvous. He winced mentally. How could this feeling of jealousy possess him so much in such a short time? He tried to push Ezio away, but to no avail. He felt betrayed, and yet, he had no right to tell the Italian how to live his life. He was a man through and through, and he succumbed to human pleasures, just as every man should. Only it pained Altair to think that way.
"Altair" he whispered softly, tightening his hold on the other. "Do you honestly think I would fool around with some harlots when I have you?"
The spoken words brought the older assassin to reality. "What?"
"You heard me," he was pecking Altair's jaw, "I'd prefer to make out right here right now with you, instead of being surrounded by a bunch of courtesans." He whispered the last part seductively, making Altair forget any suspicions for a brief moment. "But your messy appearance suggested you had an intercourse recently", the Syrian assassin tried to defend his standpoint. Sliding his hands down Altair's body, Ezio smiled mischievously, "I have some needs Altair, that's true, but there are things that I can handle myself. And since you were busy, I had no other choice but to do so." His hands were dancing in the lower parts of Altair's body and it made beautiful sounds escape Altair's throat.
The recognition of what Ezio told him made his heart lighten. Of course, he had misunderstood the other, and now it was both embarrassing and relieving to know his hypothesis was wrong. He had never felt more at ease, and now, thanks to Ezio's skillful hands, he wanted nothing else but to compensate for his lack of interest in the man for the past few days. Crashing their lips together in a forceful manner, he tasted everything Ezio had to offer; hands were grabbing here and there, and their voices mixed into a combination of moans and plead. They were making immediate progress of getting rid of their garments, and neither of them paid much attention to the fact, that they still stood in the doorway. After breaking up for an unfortunate need of air, Altair glanced at the flushed face of Ezio. His eyes were half lidded, mouth opened a bit to breathe better, and the messiness on his head was even worse. He enjoyed the sight before him, and in his heart Altair felt that he was obliged to apologize for misjudging the man. The problem was Altair found it difficult to ask for forgiveness or to admit guilt. Instead, he dipped his hand into other's hair and kissed Italian's closed eyes tenderly before placing the soft kiss on Ezio's lips.
Ezio snaked his hands around the other's neck, preventing Altair from pulling away. He smiled into the kiss and that was all the response Altair needed to know he was forgiven.
Since I'm having some trouble with writing the last chapter for Sub-rosa, I decided to give you all a short oneshot. There are too little stories about Ezio and Altair for my liking, and so I'm contributing as much as I can. Anyway, I hope you do not need any logical explanation of how they ended up in the same time period. Shh. Just keep calm and enjoy the consequences. :3