Title: Treasure in Clay Vessels
Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci/Girolamo Riario
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or anything to do with them. I'm just taking them out of the box and playing with them for a bit. I promise to put them back in mostly mint condition.
Warnings: Adult content, massive deviation from show canon, more adult content, AU within the show's Florence
Summary: Pope Sixtus is so concerned with taking over Florence that he sends two spies to infiltrate the Medici family, but the new war engineer will only choose to get close to one of them. Girolamo must forget he is a Riario to play his role, but temptations threaten to steal him away for good.
Author's notes: This story was completely inspired by a post on the now-defunct naughtyriarioconfessions tumblr. It says: "Sometimes I imagine Riario turned spy instead of Lucrezia, maybe under Florentine influence da Vinci would have turned him away from Rome (and of course towards Leo's bed)"
I hope the original prompter won't mind I took some liberties and changed the prompt a bit.
Thank you again chocksawaychaps for doing a a brilliant job editing this. You are fabulous!
Girolamo performed his usual, competent work at the bank the next morning, pushing away any thoughts of his espionage or his failing the family honor. He was so hard at work that he failed to remember Giuliano's threat from the night before. It was a surprise when Giuliano sat heavily on his desk earlier than was usual even for the Medici who never seemed to put in a day's work. Girolamo was rather more surprised that he didn't look any worse for the wear from the night before, either.
Becchi excused Girolamo from his work and left the bank with some final instructions to the rest of the clerks. Girolamo was forced to join him, Giuliano and two armed guards on the walk to the artists' section of the city.
"Really, my lord, I don't see how I can be of any use whatsoever—"
"And I told you that I may need reinforcements when it comes to persuading this horse's ass to actually produce some kind of Columbina before Easter, especially given the price—"
"The exorbitant price," Becchi added.
"The exorbitant price he's charging us," Giuliano agreed. "We've heard rumors that he was fond of grand promises but then very short on actually producing any work." He smiled brightly. "And if he proves to be a rogue, you can hold him while I beat out my frustrations on his worthless hide. It might be a productive afternoon in any case!"
There wasn't anything else Girolamo could say as he followed the men into the artists' commune. It was much as he imagined it, strewn with the filthy supplies of their trade, peopled with naked men and women acting as models, and even a few pieces of what might someday be considered art. Although Girolamo had always believed many of Florence's perversions were the result of its flourishing so-called art, he hadn't seen the depraved evidence with his own eyes. The thought that someday these wanton degradations would grace the homes of the wealthy of the republic, lining their own palaces with graven images, made him angry.
It didn't help that he was not looking forward to officially meeting the man who had given him, unbidden, that remarkable little portrait. He had thought long about that sketch and the motives behind it, and had ended up with a sleepless night and no answers. He did not know why the man would sketch him then have an underling deliver it. Did he want money? Was he looking for patronage? Did he enjoy the implied threat that came from capturing another's likeness on paper? Girolamo thought he felt vaguely violated.
It was almost a relief when the maestro Verrocchio insisted the artista was not there, and he could not give them the plans for the Columbina. While Becchi looked rather relieved there was apparently some work going on to be seen, Giuliano seemed to delight in arguing with the man, even grabbing him at one point to nearly pull him over a table.
Giuliano's temper really flared when Verrocchio told him the chest that held the plans was rigged to explode if anyone tampered with it.
"Are you mad?" Giuliano bellowed. "Why would anyone engineer such an infernal contrivance?!"
"To protect my ideas, obviously," the artista said breezily as he finally entered the studios, blond boy a smiling shadow at his back.
There was almost a physical rush that swept through the entire room when the artista made his sudden appearance. His eyes flicked over Girolamo quickly then he went straight to the chest as Verrocchio in a loud voice introduced him as Leonardo da Vinci.
"I've heard of you," Becchi was saying. "They say you're quite the free thinker."
This Leonardo was picking up grapes, shoving several in his mouth and offering one to Verrocchio. Girolamo watched his antics with thinly veiled amusement as the artista flexed his hands, circled around the group while talking about the typical annual Easter festival, even jumped up on a crate with restless energy as he mimicked fireworks. He stepped off it to offer a grape to Girolamo who declined with a gesture, knowing Leonardo was only trying to antagonize the group of officials and build suspense.
He finally pulled on gloves then made to open the chest with a flourish of fingers and a quick, false movement that made Giuliano jump back, fearing an explosion. As the gathered crowd laughed at the Medici's expense, Leonardo took out the quarter scale model of the dove and cradled it.
"It is a thing of beauty," Becchi admitted.
"There are many things of beauty in the world," Leonardo said and nodded towards Girolamo. "We have not had the pleasure of meeting yet."
Girolamo looked up from the model of the dove, not quite meeting the other man's eyes, and said shortly, "No."
"It's a pleasure that's been too long denied. I'm Leonardo."
"And I am not interested in art," Girolamo said, finally making eye contact, expecting to make a hit with the blatant insult.
Instead, Leonardo's eye closed in a wink. "There are other things just as worthwhile to take an interest in."
"I don't believe we share any interests, Artista."
Leonardo shrugged but continued to gaze brazenly at him. "There are always opportunities to discover new interests and talents, Signore...?"
"Girolamo's interests are really none of your business," Giuliano cut in, much to Girolamo's relief, though he never would have admitted it. "We are here to see your much bragged about bird, and we would like to see where all our money has gone."
"Then allow me to give you a demonstration that may change your mind."
When the bird took to wing, Girolamo was sure his mouth dropped open in astonishment, but like everyone else watching, he didn't care. It was amazing to see an inanimate object, something man-made, take flight. It dipped and soared, the artista following underneath, whopping and yelling like a young boy, pure joy lighting up his face.
Seeing the excitement flush Leonardo's face as he caught the bird to great applause, something clutched at Girolamo's chest. He thought it must be the grip of sin and greed that surrounded him, the horrors of the vices that filled Florence. This was the real sin—thinking they could eclipse God or at least make themselves equal to Him by building things not intended for this world. It was like a modern day Babel.
The disquieting thoughts must have showed on his face because Leonardo was quick to explain that the dove was only a prototype and for thirty florins, he could build a larger one still without guide wires—
Becchi was the first voice of reason to argue while Giuliano chimed in loudly, throwing curses at the artista's wild claims and demands for more money.
"You are nothing but a feckless cheat," Becchi said.
"And a whoreson," Giuliano finished succinctly.
Girolamo continued to stare at the mechanical bird nestled gently in Leonardo's hands until he heard the artista say, "Perhaps I should be negotiating with your brother instead."
Giuliano reached a hand for his sword, and Leonardo paused before continuing, "I have some other designs I believe could be greatly beneficial to the continued peace and prosperity of the republic. Especially considering the ever-expanding threat presented by the pope and his growing forces in Rome."
"That is none of your concern," Becchi raised his voice. "The Medici family have long served and protected Florence and will continue—"
"Everyone knows Pope Sixtus has designs on our fair land, and while Lorenzo the Magnificent has many fine attributes and contributions to the arts, there are military designs that I would like to discuss with him that could be of supreme interest."
"You will do nothing of the sort," Giuliano said, taking a step closer to Leonardo and dropping his hand to his sword hilt for the second time. "For God's sake, Becchi, just pay the degenerate and be done with it."
"You win, Artista," Becchi ground out and reached for a concealed money pouch.
Girolamo looked on, mind whirling with the implications of that conversation, while the transaction took place. It seemed Leonardo couldn't help but have the last word: "if you wanted to sweeten the deal, you could leave your friend here. I always can find use for a helping hand and extra manpower."
Girolamo's wide-eyed look must have been the reaction Leonardo wanted because he laughed loudly, and the Medici growled, hastening them away.
"Of all the impertinence! How dare he try to corrupt you with his dissolute tendencies. Oh yes, that is another well-spread rumor of our artista back there. The word is his debauchery includes sodomy," Giuliano informed him.
"It is fine. My virtue is still intact," Girolamo said in his usual wry voice. It seemed to lighten the mood because Giuliano clapped his hand onto his shoulder.
"Come and let us celebrate the fact that we will have, at least, some sort of ceremonial dove for the Easter spectacle."
Becchi, who had been muttering to himself about whirligigs and parlor tricks, said, "You won't be celebrating when you go to your brother and tell him you authorized thirty florins instead of twelve."
"Then come, let me fortify my resolve and have a drink before I face his magnificent wrath."
Girolamo agreed for once. He thought he could certainly use a drink as well as he gave serious thought to his next move.
It was very odd, he mused over the next days, how once one became acquainted with a person, suddenly one noticed that person everywhere, for the first time. Giuliano and Becchi were heard complaining loudly about Leonardo. Piero, the notary who frequently assisted Lorenzo with bank documents, turned out to be his father. He even spotted Leonardo and the blond boy across the market one afternoon, but Girolamo carefully slid out of the way before he could be seen in return.
It had soothed his paranoia to realize that the man was not suspicious of him as a spy but rather, in what would pass in a normal society apparently, flirting with him. Girolamo knew that sodomy was one of the multitude of sins that Florence neither officially condemned nor condoned, but he'd never been the recipient of such obvious lasciviousness. Then he saw Leonardo watching his own cousin across the market that afternoon and he figured that was simply the kind of man he was.
Unfortunately, his espionage was not going well as he was unable to uncover any more valuable information about the bank's rumored cash flow problems. The correspondence from Spain was greatly delayed, and Lorenzo looked more worried by the day until he took to spending more afternoons away from the bank and, presumably, in Lucrezia's arms. It didn't help that Girolamo did not have anything of importance to report to Rome.
Then Giuliano took him to another tavern shortly before Easter because he said he needed a break from the strenuous labor of planning the carnival. Girolamo tuned him out as usual until he began grumbling about how his brother had commissioned Leonardo to paint a portrait of Lucrezia as the ultimate lover's gift. Even worse, Lorenzo had finally succumbed and hired Leonardo on retainer as some kind of "war engineer" for the princely sum of fifty florins.
Girolamo's ears would have perked with interest, but he just casually refilled Giuliano's cup and let the man talk. Late that night, he made his mark on a predesignated alleyway wall and continued on his way.
Lucrezia was not happy to be summoned to the stable on the night before Easter, but Girolamo didn't give her a long opportunity to complain.
"Tell me what you know of the artista Leonardo da Vinci."
She looked at him appraisingly before answering. Girolamo often forgot how intelligent she was, for a woman, and he regretted his eager tone.
"Leonardo da Vinci was hired by Lorenzo to paint me."
"Yes, I know that. What do you know of him? Have you started the sittings yet?"
"No, he hasn't the time. He designed the Columbina for tomorrow night's carnival, and he's doing some sort of other work for Lorenzo."
"Then he is working as a war engineer?"
Lucrezia shrugged. "Lorenzo hasn't mentioned that to me. I only know that he's given him some kind of stipend to do other work for the Medicis."
"And the term 'war engineer' doesn't make you wonder about whom Florence is going to declare war on?"
"They might be more worried about defending themselves. Lorenzo has cursed more than once about Riario and what he may be planning for the republic."
"And now, he may be taking steps to counter brother or even make the first move," Girolamo thought out loud as his mind raced with possibilities. He focused on Lucrezia again. "You must get close to this Leonardo and find out what he is planning."
Lucrezia laughed in a low voice. "While he seems the friendly type, I think the artist may grow suspicious of me if I question him about his other work while I'm meant to be sitting silently and looking like a proper mistress."
"This could be of great importance. Brother will want to know if Lorenzo has some kind of offensive military scheme planned or if Leonardo has been hired to build something for a superior defense."
"If it is of such great importance, then you should find it out yourself."
"No one in the bank appears to know anything of substance about Lorenzo's plans for the future of the republic, and Giuliano is too engrossed in his monstrosity of a celebration to talk about anything worthwhile," Girolamo said. "Your techniques have always worked in the past, with men who loosen their tongues in the presence of a loose woman. Perhaps you could suggest he paint you in the flesh then let him take off your gown and—"
"How dare you whore me out?" Lucrezia's voice was low and deadly calm. "It is one thing, to do what I must to protect the only family I have left, but I will not lie with another man simply because you are suspicious of him."
"Really? That appears to be your only talent, spreading your legs and opening your ears," Girolamo caught her hand at the last instant before it slapped his cheek then pushed her back against the wall as she struggled against him.
She spit out, "You are no better than I, sent off to do the devil's work."
"Take care with your speech. We are both tools. Holy instruments—"
"There is nothing holy in what we do. I have my reasons for this madness, but I cannot imagine why you do this. And soon you will feel the rough edge of your brother's wrath if you don't give him something important when I report to Rome."
Girolamo let go of her, and she stepped away out to the door before saying. "Anyway, if rumor is to be believed, it seems the artista prefers the sword to the sheath. Perhaps you might have more luck seducing him and getting the information on your back or on your knees for a change."
Girolamo was so stunned by her coarse comment that he let her escape from the stable with only a snarl. He knew she was taunting him, taking out her anger over the hopeless situation on him, but it made him unbearably angry in return. While even a cornered mouse would show its teeth, the cat could suffer one bite before it won the ultimate victory. Girolamo would let her have that insult and pay her back in kind soon enough.
As soon as he found something of value to report to his Holy Father and brother.
It felt extraordinarily sinful to celebrate the day of the Lord's resurrection with a fete and celebration like Florence had planned that year. Girolamo would not have attended anything other than Mass, if Giuliano hadn't been expecting him. He had finally agreed to attend simply to make Giuliano stop asking, as if the entire city wouldn't be crowded into the streets to see the final culmination of the ancient ceremonies. It didn't mean he had to like it.
Girolamo dressed with none of the flourish most Florentines, and especially the Medici, seemed to favor. While he saw nearly every kind of costume on and off the crowds roaming the city, he added only a simple domino mask to his normal black clothing.
'Let them think me the spectre of death come to pass judgment upon them,' he thought with a smirk of satisfaction that he mastered quickly.
The piazza in front of the Duomo was as crowded as he'd feared, and the people were surging ever forward to get closer to the church. He ended up pushed nearly to the front which he suddenly didn't mind when the Easter Columbina ascended out of the church.
Even though he'd seen the smaller sample, Girolamo was amazed all over again at the sight. It was awe-inspiring—a mechanical bird flying without wires. But even more astounding was the talent and sheer audacity of a man imagining that he could make mere metal fly as well as the Creator made birds take to wing.
It was blasphemy. It was surely sin.
It was incredible.
In the moment before the Columbina landed on the fireworks, Girolamo recognized the artista standing nearby. He was not wearing a costume, and he was not watching the dove. He was staring at Girolamo, and he was sure Leonardo knew it was he behind the mask as though he were wearing nothing at all. When the fireworks interrupted with a great explosion, Girolamo slipped away.
He was gaining speed down a street when he heard Leonardo call out. Girolamo didn't stop until Leonardo caught up and grabbed his arm. He panted for breath and smiled. "What did you think of the celebration?"
"It's rather too extravagant."
"That's rather the point," Leonardo said.
"Then it succeeded." Girolamo tried to pull away, but Leonardo continued to hold his biceps.
"And what did you think of the Columbina? Wasn't it grand?"
"Really, Artista, have you stooped so low as to fish for compliments?"
Leonardo threw back his head and laughed. Girolamo stood, transfixed by the way the man's neck arched as he laughed rather than the strong hand that gripped his arm. When Leonardo noticed his attention, he smirked. "You are right; I have no need to beg for compliments. But, I am most eager to find out what you thought of the portrait I made of you that night in the tavern."
"It was highly impertinent. How dare you—" Girolamo's voice trailed off as Leonard moved closer.
"I would like to sketch you properly," he breathed against Girolamo's ear, hand flexing around his arm. "You have such a fascinating face."
"If you are so desperately in need of models, I am sure there are more willing bodies available to you."
"But they aren't the body I desire." When Leonardo kissed him, Girolamo felt his mask crushed between their faces. He focused on that minute discomfort to avoid being swept away by the heat of Leonardo's mouth and the press of his lean body against his own. When he felt Leonardo try to move him around the corner and into an alleyway, Girolamo pushed him away with force. Leonardo broke the kiss and stepped back, breath echoing across Girolamo's open lips, hands sliding down his arms and then away.
"My mistake," Leonardo's voice sounded huskier than before. "I'm sorry I tried to step in where I am not wanted." He hesitated. "I am not wanted, then?"
Girolamo tried to school his expression into something neutral. "No, you are not."
"It's only for a bit of fun. You look like you've never done anything simply for pleasure. And you're always hiding. I can't figure out what your enigmatic smiles mean, but I suspect there is much more to you than meets the eye."
"I fear you are sadly mistake, Artista. I am only what I appear to be."
"I don't believe that. You have the look of a trapped man, one who doesn't believe he has a choice in his life. But you do. You can certainly choose to enjoy your time here, take a chance on something new. It's all within your own power."
Girolamo didn't dignify that with a response. He offered Leonardo the half-smile that passed for politeness, then moved around him and down the street, his heart and mind racing.
His power. The artista was sorely mistaken in thinking that Girolamo had any sort of power or choice in his own life. Wasn't that the very cause of original sin in the world? Man thinking he could take control of his own life and making the wrong choice, the choice to disobey? Girolamo had never had any power over his own life and future, and all of a sudden, the temptation was stronger than he'd ever known.
All this flooded through his brain in an instant, his active mind seeing down one fork of the road and its consequences and then the other.
The artista had hit the mark closer than he'd ever know. Girolamo wondered if that was how Lucrezia had felt, when she'd had to offer herself to Lorenzo. Had he ever looked at her that way, with naked passion in his eyes? How was she able to respond in the same way to a temptation and a sin?
Girolamo closed his eyes for a moment. It would be so easy to entrap Leonardo now. He would have a way to gain information, either through talking with him or even blackmail after the fact. He remembered the flash of heat and that kiss and the way his stomach always seemed to drop when he locked eyes with the artista. He wanted something for the first time in his life that was all his alone, some measure of power, some control.
He turned back and took several quick strides to Leonardo's back as he walked the opposite direction, grabbed his shoulder and spun him against the wall of a house. Leonardo braced himself to fight back, staying his blow when he saw it was Girolamo, and Girolamo pushed his body against his and fumbled the mask aside. Leonardo realized what he wanted, took his face in his hands, and kissed him.
The kiss was every bit as hot as the first one, and even better when Girolamo was fully committed. Leonardo hummed a happy moan into his mouth as his tongue searched out the artista's even as his hands moved to Leonardo's shoulders. Leonardo kept one hand on his cheek, brushing the jut of cheekbone with his thumb, as he pulled at Girolamo's waist to move their bodies even closer.
"I really do want to sketch you, sometime," Leonardo breathed against his ear when the kiss was ended, tracing the whorl of ear with his tongue.
Girolamo couldn't contain a shiver. "Now?"
"No, I'd rather take you back to my room and ravish you."
They stumbled into Leonardo's rooms as though he couldn't keep his hands off Girolamo, or perhaps was afraid he would run away again if he let go. Leonardo kissed him as though he was trying to memorize each detail of Girolamo's mouth, pinpoint what made him breath faster, which movement made his breath catch altogether. Leonardo quickly overwhelmed his senses until all of them blurred into one overload of pleasure.
The fireworks celebrating the end of the Easter season boomed overhead, and later, Girolamo would remember the encounter like each burst of shocking light, each unbearably bright flash of color.
The feel of Leonardo's toned, bare chest. The slim hips thrusting against his. The muscular arms bracketing his head. The long legs and clenched buttocks. The clever hands that reached for him and made him feel wrapped up in sin. Each kiss melting into another. Leonardo spreading the kisses down his body until he could feel nothing but the heat and the fire and the explosion like he'd never imagined. When he was able to touch the hardness of Leonardo, it took only moments for him to follow Girolamo into pleasure, panting and calling Girolamo's name, then biting his bare shoulder at his moment of climax.
Girolamo lay there, in the artista's bed, wide-eyed and catching his breath. Leonardo groaned and rolled off him, one hand resting possessively in the middle of Girolamo's abdomen.
"Oh, God, you're thinking already. How can you be thinking already? Did I not provide you with enough distraction?" Leonardo murmured, flinging his other arm dramatically over his own eyes.
"Forbidden fruit," Girolamo whispered back.
"What about it?"
"That's what you are, you know." It was ridiculous to feel almost embarrassed to meet Leonardo's eyes now, while he was still slick with the other man's sweat and worse.
"And I am delicious," Leonardo confided in a low voice. "Would you like another taste?"
God help him, but Girolamo would.
END NOTE: My apologies to the superb writers and directors of Starz for using some show dialogue in the artists' studio scene and the fireworks/orgasm allusion because that is too priceless. It makes me laugh every time I watch that episode, and I love it.