A/N: Here's the result of me gaming for about three and a half days straight. On Friday afternoon until about midnight Saturday, I played Assassin's Creed. Starting about noon on Sunday until about 3am, then picking up around 4pm on Monday and going until 10pm, I've been playing the sequel, Assassin's Creed II. I'm not finished AC2, but I love it! Especially Leonardo and Ezio. They're completely in love. From the moment I had to (as Ezio, of course) carry a dead body into Leonardo's shop, I knew. He carried a dead body for him. That's true love, no matter how many people he's killed.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Mentions of pedophilia, lots of gayness.

Leonardo sometimes wondered what it felt like to be with a man. Not a boy, but a man. Yes, his assistants were wonderful. Their naïveté and inexperience was delightful, because out of the precious things in the world that Leonardo took pleasure in, bestowing knowledge was one of the top few. It didn't matter to him that he was bestowing sexual knowledge upon these young boys. They were learning things, and gaining pleasure in the process.

No matter how much he enjoyed giving knowledge and teaching the young men who had been apprenticed to him, he always wondered what it would feel to give up the control he so readily wielded with his assistants. He wondered how he would feel, if he were the one being slowly, carefully prepared and stretched. Often, he fantasized about it. A man. A grown man, with a muscled body and a firm jaw line. No baby fat in his cheeks, nor delicate innocence in his hands and heart. An adult man.

Leonardo's man would be assertive, but not controlling. He would be strong, but he would never take advantage of his physical power over Leonardo. He would have a way with words, but he would never lie to someone he cared for. He would be brave, but not reckless. He would appreciate art and sciences, but he would be willing to listen to Leonardo go off on tangents about either one. He would be beautiful, but not feminine in the least. He would have strong arms and legs, with toned muscles throughout his flesh. His whole body would speak of untold, quiet strength; the type of strength that isn't flaunted, but certainly evident and not to be trifled with.

Leonardo's man would be a natural-born joker, with a sharp wit and a sharp tongue. He would have class, and enjoy the finer things in life while being able to live without them. He would respect and appreciate Leonardo's work, and he'd know when it was okay to bother him and when it was best to leave well enough alone.

Leonardo's man would know the touch of a gentle hand, but also know how it is to push aside fear. He would love with a firm passion, undulating between fiery and mellow. Leonardo would love him in the same fashion. They would love one another.

Leonardo never did realize that his man was right before his eyes. Well, after his man left Venice, there was barely word of his presence in the floating city. He didn't come back unless it was required.

After a few years, he didn't come back at all. He never again came back with a scroll decorated with Arabic text or a weapon diagram. He never again came back to Leonardo's workshop to ask for a free tour of whatever district. He never again amusedly obliged the artist's open-armed invitations for hugs. He never again returned to ask if he could use that blasted flying machine that he'd broken twice.

Leonardo would have been devastated, if he had known Ezio Auditore was his man. However, ignorance—something Leonardo feared and despised—came in handy. He wasn't wrought with overpowering depression. He didn't confine himself to his bed, claiming to be sick. He didn't spend his days writing letters full of pleads for a return and scrapping them all before they reached four sentences.

Leonardo da Vinci was a genius, but he never could quite see what was right before his eyes. Ezio was always right before his eyes. He would never know that he loved Ezio. His unawareness of his feelings would be his salvation.

Leonardo da Vinci would live a loveless life.