His laugh is contagious, an ebullient sound, soft and warm that never fails to trace the assassin's lips upward into a smile. It fills the room, buoying the white clad man's mood effectively. Those aquamarine eyes sparkle with vivid energy as words tumble off plush, rosy lips to indulge in newly discovered facts. The painter's voice is avid, imbued with the passion for his newfound project of decoding the Codex. Ezio almost laughs at the man's sentiment of successfully interpreting another page, but knows it would only ruin his moment and, instead, holds it at the tip of his tongue.
Leonardo's eccentric passion for creative objects and activities had seemed, in a measure, eccentric to Ezio once. But now that makes the painter something even more special to the assassin. Leonardo is a puzzle box in his own way, deciphering something about him uncovers something else. In this way Ezio likes to think of him as his own enigma. Not at all frustrating like he finds the preponderance of enigmas to be, but rather fascinating and wholly enjoyable.
"Ezio? Ezio, are you listening to me?" Leonardo regards the assassin's abstracted eyes with annoyance and slight wonder. He quietly notes it's nice to see the assassin deep in thought for once, but it does irk him to know that means the man has, in all likelihood, been ignoring him through most of the detailing, an observation that means a great deal of repeating on his part.
The grin on the assassin's face falters to a soft, warm smile. The painter cannot summon the desire to pretend to be angry with the man. He turns with a sigh, putting the Codex page on a table crowded with books and various painting utensils.
Ezio quietly muses with how messy his friend's home has become as the man rummages for something. Once, Leonardo da Vinci had been a rather strict disciple of keeping his house clean. Once. Now, the painter seems to find this less important in reflection to creativity, having recently claimed that a home is not for public display but for personal association, and piles what he cannot find a quick place for on his tables or in wooden boxes in corners. Still, the painter's home is welcoming; it's a place Ezio finds appeals greatly to the meaning of 'relaxing' and 'homely'. The faint smell of paint drying and hanging, dried herbs mix pleasantly in a smell unique to the house.
As the assassin looks around fondly, he suddenly frowns, noticing a sketch half-hidden beneath others. It seems to exhibit the image of a man posing with the dignity of clothes completely relinquished. A foolish grin betakes his face as he picks up the sheet from the table and sees that, indeed, it is a naked man. It's himself. He then sees that there's not only one, but also several beneath. Unlike the first, however, they focus closely on certain aspects of him instead of an overall portrait. He picks them up as well.
Ezio looks at the full-body portrait first. Leonardo had not shrunken with humility that would make him refrain from etching indistinctness on the sketch. He did not hesitate even on the most private portions of the Italian's body. From the curve of his buttocks to the lost-in-thought smile, the portrait indulged in every bend and crevasse.
"I remember when you drew this," Ezio says. And indeed he does. Leonardo's cheeks had taken to such a dark hue of red that he looked like a ripe tomato. Yet, all the while, fascination was as clear as a crystalline pond in his eyes. Ezio had felt a certain amount of pride to know that his nakedness would have an affect on someone such as Leonardo da Vinci.
Ezio's grin grows even wider when Leonardo whirls around with a look akin to mortification. "Let me have those," he says quickly, walking around the table to take them. Ezio laughs, easily dancing out of his reach. "Ezio!" the painter objects loudly. "Give them back."
"Why? You never let me see them when you finished." He slowly flips through the sketches, making circles around the table with Leonardo following. "Those are not finished!" he shouts, trying to snatch them away again. "An artist does not reveal his work until his finished!"
"These looked finished to me." Ezio laughs. "Look at this one!" Even though his tone is colored in humored, Ezio falters in surprise as he stares as the detailed lower body sketch. "Ezio," Leonardo scolds, snatching the sketching from his hand. "They're not finished," he insists. He rolls the sketches up and deposits them in a chest.
Ezio stares at Leonardo's face—it's as ripened as a tomato once more. A boyish laughter suddenly rises from his chest. He holds his sides in mirth as it escapes. Leonardo stares at him in surprise and his embarrassment furthers even more. "What about this is so funny?" he asks, folding his arms. Ezio gasps in wheezy breaths and wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "Siete davvero qualcosa," he chuckles. Leonardo raises an eyebrow "That doesn't answer much."
"Your face," Ezio says. "You know how you look when you blush?" Leonardo turns away with a scowl. "I look foolish apparently."
Ezio leans back against the table with a smooth smile pulling at his lips. "No," he says. "Not at all." Leonardo does not reply, although his expression indicates he is thinking. They stand in silence for a few moments before Leonardo wanders towards his workbench were the Codex sits. "You should probably go, Ezio… I need to finish here and there's more yet to find." Ezio sighs.
"Yes, I know." He pushes off the table and walks towards Leonardo. He picks up one of his hands and kisses the painter's smooth knuckles. "Until we have the pleasure of meeting again, then," he says with a smile so handsome it could almost be a sin.
Leonardo eyes widen slightly, and he doesn't breath, but he also doesn't pull away. His cheeks feel warm as Ezio releases his hand and looks into his eyes still smiling that young, handsome smile. The painter vaguely wonders if this is similar to enamor the women Ezio so loves to flirt with feel. The urge to lean forward nearly takes him when Ezio brushes his cheek, but the assassin is already walking towards the door before he can exploit the feeling.
"Ezio." His heart feels as though it trips when the assassin stops. Leonardo catches himself and smiles. "Good luck, my friend." Ezio tilts his head forward and then steps out the door. Leonardo can see the smile on the young man's face as he turns to look out into the busy street, and it makes him smile.
|O|
I'm sure this isn't a new idea for a story, but I decided to post it anyway. This one has been sitting around for quite a while and, after reading it again, decided it was worth finishing.
This'll be my first story for Ezio/Leonardo. I almost thought about making it so the sketches were not the only risqué thing about the story, but decided they were too cute for anything naughty. For now anyway...
Siete davvero qualcosa = You really are something
Translation to Italian with Google Translate. I apologize if it's wrong. If you know it's incorrect and know the right translation, please let me know. :)