Warning: the following contains scenes of an adult nature; do not read if you do not like hot man on man fun, if you do please read and review!
All characters are owned by Ubisoft: we are poor little penguins, who just play in their sandpit...
Ezio Auditore was stalking the streets of Florence, looking for a present to give to his newest and dearest friend, his lover; Leonardo da Vinci. He had stopped already at many merchants, and the night was drawing in around him as he pondered and failed to come to a decision. He did not want to turn up at the artist's house empty-handed, although he knew Leonardo expected nothing from him. He had never bought him a gift before, but he felt the time was right. They had been spending more time apart lately, since Ezio had moved his family to live in his uncle's villa, many miles out into the Tuscan countryside, and the hurt they felt as a result of their parting was difficult to bear. Ezio sighed, soon there would be no one left to buy from as the merchants began to parcel up their good and close down their stalls. He felt as though he had stared at everything Florence had to offer: glass and silver wares, tapestries, fine wines and tastes of the orient; he had looked at artist materials, but realised quickly he wouldn't know what to buy; likewise paintings, for what could he ever buy Leonardo that the artist himself could not complete to a higher standard in hours? He sighed again. The quest was hopeless. He walked in the direction of Leonardo's workshop, a route he had walked many times before, and stopped in the dim light of evening at one final merchant's store. There he bought two bottles of wine from the heart of the Veneto, some bread and gorgonzola picante, and a small bag of cherries. As he handed over his coins, his eyes settled on a beautiful white bird in a golden cage behind the merchant's counter. He settled his bill.
"The bird, is it for sale?"
The merchant looked behind him. "Yes, yes I suppose so. I bought it a little while ago after being told that it would sing. Something to impress the customers, I thought? But it has never made a sound! Take it instead of your change."
The merchant held onto the remainder of Ezio's coins and passed him the caged-bird instead. Ezio collected his newly acquired possessions and walked off into the night, his feet carrying him quickly to Leonardo's door.
The bird was indeed silent, as the merchant had said, as it sat on its small perch, the only structure of the metal cage. Ezio placed the creature down, freeing an arm, and knocked loudly on the door, two quick, sharp raps, as he had become accustomed to doing in the many months he had been visiting the workshop; Leonardo had begun to recognise it, and did not ignore it or hesitate, as he did with others who sought him out. Tonight was no different, and the door was flung open quickly, and Ezio found the artist heaped in his arms, pushing against his chest, the man's hands speedily linking behind Ezio's back. The younger man could not help but laugh at the artist's enthusiasm, although, the wine and cheese he had procured threaten to slip from his light grasp. Leonardo began to lay kisses upon Ezio's neck, nipping at the skin as he did so.
"Leonardo, let us go inside!" Ezio exclaimed, shoving the other forcefully back, without waiting for a response. He moved to a desk in the centre of the workshop, which, at this late hour, was lit by candles, spread freely around the room, and began to lay out the items, as Leonardo loosened his grip. "Look what I have brought you."
His attention now held, Leonardo watched the table as Ezio lay out the wine, cheese and fruit. "Excellent. How wonderful, but you know you do not need to do anything for me. Shall we sit now and enjoy?"
"No, no," laughed Ezio, cheered at the presence of his lover; to be near him and feel the tangible heat from his body. "I have more...I have brought you something that will last much longer than wine or cheese, or so I hope. It is a beautiful thing." Ezio went back to the door and collected the white bird, drawing his cape around the cage, as to keep the suspense. The artist drew close to Ezio once more, as he returned to the main room, the excitement and electricity moving in his eyes. "You must name him, Leonardo," Ezio warned, a faint smile playing upon his lips. He could wait no longer. He pulled back his cape to reveal the wonderfully, white bird, that under the darkness of Ezio's cape, had began to push his head under his wing, attempting to sleep. Staring down at the bird, Ezio could not conceal his delight; this gift seemed perfect for the artist and, although it did not make a sound, it would provide some form of companionship for when he had to depart.
However, Leonardo's face dropped and his eyes grew dark, not in anger but with some kind of sadness, which Ezio could not understand. "But, Ezio..." Leonardo moved one of his hands to his chest, and his finger crawled out over the thin material of his shirt, just over his heart. His eyes were transfixed on the creature in the cage, which perturbed by the changes in light, moved about the cage, his body becoming large, as his feather puffed out. "Ezio..."
Ezio's face fell. "Leonardo, do you not like him? I just thought... I didn't know what to buy you, and I thought that since we are apart so often now – my fault – that maybe you having a companion as a gift from me might make things easier for you, if they can be made easier."
"Thank you Ezio," Leonardo breathed, as he continued to clench his shirt. He looked into Ezio's kindly eyes, beautiful and sweet. He saw the man's good intentions, and he loved him all the more, but the sight of the caged bird clawed at the pit of his stomach. Something so beautiful, and natural; caged for what it was and prevented from doing what its soul was born to do... His eyes darkened again. He thought back to those days before he met Ezio, when he was a different person, but a person desperate to be what he truly was, and he remembered the people who had sought to cage him for that, to prevent him from doing what was in his deepest nature to do...
"Ezio, thank you, really, for the gift. Thank you." Leonardo poured some of the wine into two awaiting glasses and some of the beautiful blue of his eyes returned as he caught upon an idea.
"My gift Ezio, to do with as I please?"
"Of course Leonardo! I have no fear that you will eat him," Ezio jested.
Leonardo smiled: "Of course not Ezio, that is not in my nature"
The artist moved closer to Ezio as the younger man sipped his drink. "My gift to do with as I please?"
"Of course! The merchant told me the bird was supposed to sing, but he said he had never heard him..."
Leonardo looked thoughtful again. He moved towards the younger man, and slipped his tongue into Ezio's mouth. The kiss was passionate, deep and intense. Ezio flicked his tongue to the roof of Leonardo's mouth and dragged it forward to the artist's lips; the artist shook with passion, and he raised his hands to Ezio's face and pulled him close to kiss him deeper. Breathless, they pulled away.
Leonardo moved away from his lover, back towards the table, where he lifted the cage. He walked towards the window and opened it. Resting the cage upon the open window ledge, he reached a hand inside and clasped the bird. Drawing it close to his face, he whispered to it, words which Ezio could barely distinguish, but which concerned nature and freedom. Then Leonardo leaned out of the window into the Florentine night, and threw his hands to the sky. The bird flapped its wings and took off over and above the rooftops, beginning to sing a song as it left the small workshop and began to explore the sky.
Ezio looked hurt when Leonardo turned to face him, but the artist smiled. "Nothing and no one is meant to be caged. Every living thing is born with the right to express its true nature, and no one on this earth has the right to impede that. Everyone should be free, to live and love and dream as they please. Thank you for my present, I am glad for the chance to unleash an imprisoned soul..."
Leonardo moved back to the man again and kissed him deeply. "No one," he whispered, breaking his kiss, "Deserves the denial of their nature."
Ezio's fingers toyed at the loose and thin fabric that concealed his lover's frame. Quickly, they fell to work, as between kisses, Ezio and Leonardo fought to remove each other's clothing: buttons torn off ricocheted off the wall into a wine glass, as Leonardo tore away Ezio's shirt, sending droplets of wine across their smouldering bodies. Finally freed, Ezio took hold of Leonardo's penis, slipping his hand up and down the shaft, while pushing Leonardo towards the desk, sending out his arm to banish its contents to the ground. He pushed Leonardo over, crawling on top, one hand still gripping the other man's cock, while the other ran over the rest of the artist's perfectly formed torso. Leonardo lay paralysed, gasping as the other man played with his body, moving his lips slowly across his tingling skin, pausing to tease Leonardo's nipples. Ezio separated their bodies, one strong hand pushing Leonardo back further onto the desk, and dipped down opening his mouth to take the other's manhood in. Without delay, Ezio took Leonardo fully into his mouth, sucking powerfully – Leonardo moaned and rocked his hips upwards. Leonardo squirmed as Ezio moved and tightened his lips at an increasing pace, occasionally using his teeth to pinch the head – Leonardo's body was soon drenched in sweat as Ezio continued his passionate assault. Placing a hand on Leonardo's chest, Ezio found those lips again and giving a fleeting kiss, he raised his arms up and under the artist's back before flipping him over in one swift movement, as Leonardo's moans echoed around the bare workshop. Leonardo could feel his hips jut into the hard wooden desk; he knew tomorrow and for many days afterwards there would be bruises but, for now, all he wanted was to feel the other man inside of him. Ezio moved his fingers to the man's opening, and after stroking his fingers across the place, immediately thrust two in at once, and Leonardo let out an animalistic howl, stretching himself across the desk, while his fingers sank into the wood, and, as Ezio began to work his fingers in and out, occasionally flicking, Leonardo anchored himself in preparation.
The pulsing may have gone on for minutes or hours, but to Leonardo time stood still. He had missed this; the strong body of his young lover, but also his words and his kindness. There could be no denying anymore; he missed him, and as he thought of how much he wished things could have stayed as they were before, with Ezio living mere streets away and waking up each morning in his bed, tears escaped his eyes. He wept for what they had lost so soon, and for what he knew – although Ezio would not admit it – they would never get back.
He became aware that Ezio had stopped his motions. He felt the young man's body twist as he reached for something on the table beside them. He listened as Ezio uncorked the bottle of wine once again, and he felt the cold liquid splash against the backs of his thighs as Ezio poured the wine into his hands and then down onto his manhood. Leonardo held his breath, and then he felt it: the strength and power of the younger man pushing inside of him. He wanted to scream in response to the pain; the pain that never seemed to lessen no matter how many times they made love, and yet no sound came from his throat. Within seconds Ezio was buried inside of him, and the rutting of his hips and the speed and passion with which he moved, combined with the hot breath on the back of his neck and the way Ezio's hands clutched over his own, covering them and pulling down on them, sent Leonardo's passion flooding onto the desk, covering his stomach and finally drawing out the noises Leonardo had so long needed to release. As Leonardo's cries lingered and fell heavy in the air, Ezio felt the man's muscles tightening around his engorged penis. The tightness was almost unbearable, and Ezio could only thrust a few more times before his body surrendered and copied the artist's screams. He felt his release spill inside the beautiful body which lay spread before him. His heart pounded to the point of pain and he leaned back, closing his eyes, but never managing to escape the image of the beautiful Leonardo da Vinci taking his love inside of him. He could barely breathe, in part because of passion, but in greater part because of the realisation of his love for this man which grew in strength daily, by seconds and minutes: Ezio feared that this love would one day become something that neither of them could hide; something which may prove the final undoing of both...
Ezio was spent, but he lingered inside of his lover until he could linger no longer. He saw Leonardo's body shake, but he knew the artist was not satisfied. Ezio was also not fully satisfied either, and lifting the man and turning him, he took the artist into his arms and allowed the man to wrap arms and legs around his tight frame. Slowly, he turned his head and blew out the remaining candles in the workshop. Then, framed by darkness, he lifted the clinging frame of Leonardo and carried him up the small flight of stairs to the artist's bed, where they lay, talking and weeping into the small hours before they finally succumbed to sleep.
Too soon the sun awakened and spread its beautiful, but unwelcome rays over Florence. Ezio kissed the forehead of the sleeping artist, and passed out into the early dawn, his heart as heavy as his feet as he walked away from that which he most desired. Leonardo lay alone, exhausted from passion and tears, feeling the aching in his body and knowing although he dared not admit it even to himself, that it would be many long days before his lover could return. Still naked, Leonardo crawled from the bed and walked to the window where he opened the shutters and leaned out into the early Florentine sunshine. Ezio was long gone; no sight of him remaining, but as he stared out onto the rooftops and balconies of his beautiful city, he became aware of a presence staring at him. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, the artist made to move back inside, and it was then that he heard the sound... a beautiful singing; a song of passion, and looking to his right he saw standing there upon the window sill staring up to the sun, Ezio's gift to him. The bird had returned, and it brought with him a song of freedom and expression, and the artist had to smile. And smile he did – though he could not explain his happiness – for many a long morning until his lover returned once again to his arms.