A/N: Suggested by DreamerAngel17. Thanks for keeping me sane, dear. Two songs were also suggested for last chapter: Alicia Keys's "Unthinkable" and Ratatat's "Wildcat." And just to let you all know, the cat that I was thinking of for Leonardo was a caracal. They're wild, but are easily domesticated. People in east Africa use them as hunting cats. They're really intelligent. Gorgeous, too.
Also, sorry about how long it took for me to update. This chapter gave me some difficulties.
What happens next? Review and tell me!
Fever
Sandstorm
Leonardo would have let Ezio's strange behavior slide if he had been able to link it to the fever, but Ezio seemed to be in his right mind and therefore Leonardo had trouble understanding what was wrong. It was fairly obvious that Ezio felt a guilty sort of pleasure when someone else was taking care of him. He would struggle and yet seek to be held, and Leonardo had not missed that almost-moan when he'd been cleaning Ezio's face the day the doctor came. He also did not miss the embarrassed glances Ezio sent him when he was touched. Ezio's behavior was probably linked to the fact that he was an assassin. It was one end of a pendulum's path, while the other was for people who hated to be touched by anyone and anything.
Leonardo chuckled when Ezio was gone. The poor man didn't have to be embarrassed about a weakness for affection. Wasn't Leonardo himself always asking for a hug anyway? He pounded his fist into his palm in a moment of decision. When Ezio came out of that bathroom, a big hug was what he would receive. But first, the sheets desperately needed to be changed.
Leonardo stripped the bed and looked at the stains. Perhaps he would get Enrico to wash them later, because they were not at all attractive. One of them looked very much like urine. He bundled up the sheets and threw them out the window into the courtyard. They landed in a tight heap in a small cart. At least they were outside. Leonardo would tend to them later.
He sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. He didn't want Ezio to sleep in here anymore. It was too cold to keep the window open, and even with the sheets gone, the air stank. But Leonardo didn't have any bedrolls and thus the only place left for Ezio would be the couch in the workshop. Leonardo wanted to be inviting and generous, and he wanted Ezio to stay for as long as possible so that he could be as strong as possible when he left. But he also knew that Ezio was the type of person to leap at the chance of leaving a sickbed. He put his face in his hands. He sensed a fight coming. The only thing he could do was ask whether or not Ezio wanted to remain in the room with new sheets or move to the couch, and hope that he wouldn't intuit there was the third option of leaving. Maybe Leonardo could sketch his arm and shoulder and see how the wound had affected it, and use that suggestion to entice Ezio to stay.
Leonardo went into his workshop and pulled out his journals. He felt like studying something. He would have liked to find a cat to study, but they tended to be uncooperative when he tried. Sitting in front of him were some unfinished sketches of a cat arching its back as it stretched. He'd tried to keep the image in his head long enough to complete the picture, but he had only seen the cat for about a second, and it had begun to do other interesting, languorous things that Leonardo also wanted to sketch. What flexible spines they had!
Leonardo took his pencil and darkened the lines around the cat's paws. They were strange, especially the ones in the sketches where the cat was stretching. How could such soft and fleshy things conceal such sharp and painful weapons? They were like their own assassins.
The drawing of the cat slowly lured him in, until he found himself giving it a light source and glossing out its fur. Turning to the second one, he pulled forward his sketches of human muscles and began to apply them to the cat. It was like a puzzle, except not all of the pieces fit exactly into place. The ones around the skull and spine were especially frustrating. Leonardo rubbed his eyes with one hand and made a sound like a growl. He would have given anything for a cat carcass at that moment.
Thoughts about how he would obtain one began to return him to the world around him, and he became aware of a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. He stood up out of his chair and turned around to find Ezio sitting on the couch, staring at him.
"Sorry," Ezio said, smiling. "You looked too peaceful to disturb."
Leonardo laughed, though the wrenched feeling in his gut refused to leave. He felt a little sick. He leaned back against his desk. "Is 'peaceful' the right word, my friend?"
"I suppose not," Ezio said, "but 'graceful' isn't, either."
Leonardo waved him off and scoffed. "Perhaps 'entranced,'" he said, "or 'stupefied.'"
Ezio chuckled. "I saw that you took the sheets away," he said. "I assume that I'm being relocated to the couch?" He patted the cushion he was sitting on.
"Well, I was going to ask you whether you wanted to stay in there or in here," Leonardo said. "The only reason I didn't put new sheets on was because I wasn't sure what you would want. It smells in there, Ezio."
Ezio nodded and stood up. "Perhaps I should be going, then," he said.
Leonardo stepped towards him. "But you're not fully healed yet."
"I do not want to ruin your furniture with my blood," Ezio said.
Leonardo opened his mouth to reply, then quickly shut it, crossed his arms, and jerked his head away. "Do you really think so ill of me?"
Tensity suddenly seemed to fill the air, but Leonardo did not look up. Instead he continued, "I'm insulted, Ezio, really. Do you honestly think that I care more about a piece of damned furniture than I do about you, my closest friend?" He felt like spitting in contempt, but refrained. "How dare you think that of me?" He closed his eyes and sagged against the edge of the desk.
After a few moments, he heard footsteps. They seemed to be coming closer rather than going farther away, but Leonardo was suddenly too tired to open his eyes. He had not slept since Ezio first came. He had been too worried, and dreamed of frightening things when he did doze. Now, half-asleep standing up, he felt something brush against his cheek and travel into his hair. He felt something touch his neck. It would have tickled had it not felt so good.
Leonardo took a deep breath and was filled with the scent of arid days upon the sea. He smelled the clouds of a dry thunderstorm. It made him open his eyes with a dizziness caused by visions the scents invoked, and he found himself staring at Ezio's collarbone. It was Ezio's hand in his hair. It was Ezio's nose and lips against Leonardo's neck. He was breathing against Leonardo's skin and lightly touching it.
Leonardo's hands rose, trembling, but he couldn't decide what to grab or push away. "Ezio," he said. His voice shook on the first syllable, then cracked and faded to a whisper. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Ezio murmured. The vibrations made Leonardo think of implications, of Salai and one of his other students. It made him swallow. It made him nervous. Ezio opened his mouth and pressed his lips and tongue underneath Leonardo's ear. Leonardo felt his face burn with embarrassment and shame. Ezio pulled back slightly to say, "Whatever you want."
It wasn't Ezio's voice that came through, however. It was something darker, something dangerous. It filled Leonardo with past fears. He attempted to remove himself from the situation by sliding to the left, but Ezio removed his hand from Leonardo's hair and placed it on the desk next to his hip, effectively caging him.
"What's wrong?" he said into Leonardo's ear.
"What are you doing?" Leonardo repeated. "Why?"
"Because I'm curious," Ezio said.
Leonardo's eyes flicked in confusion. "About what?" he asked.
"You," Ezio said. Leonardo felt light pressure against his right hip, but he couldn't see what Ezio was doing. Soon he felt bare fingertips underneath his shirt. They traveled slowly up his side and down his front to trace the lines of his abdomen. He sucked in a harsh breath.
"Stop," he said.
"Why?" Ezio asked.
"Because I asked you to," Leonardo said. It came out sounding like a bark. "Now stop." The fingers paused but did not remove themselves. Leonardo forced himself to sigh. "You can't do this, Ezio."
"Why not?"
"People get in trouble with the law for things like this," Leonardo said. "I've already been accused once. I don't need the trouble of that again."
Ezio seemed undeterred. "Accused of what, exactly? Touching? I do remember hearing about that, Leonardo, when we were still living in Firenze. It was just around the time we met. You were accused of sodomy. I don't plan on going near that concept."
"What, then?" Leonardo's heart was pounding.
"Consider it science," Ezio said. "I'm just finding out the differences between the way certain men react to things certain women like."
The fingers started moving again. They traveled to Leonardo's back and there, Ezio's palm flattened and pulled Leonardo forward. Ezio had pulled back, and now leaned in again to kiss Leonardo on the mouth. Leonardo had been about to speak, and so he felt his teeth knock against Ezio's when they met. Ezio's mouth was warm and dry and tasted like the desert. It tasted like music and the heaving groans of camels. It was like the spirit of Arabian hooves traveling with swift endurance over hundreds of miles to get to this place and this single moment, where and when Leonardo felt Ezio's tongue against his own.
Leonardo's hands began to travel up Ezio's arms of their own accord. He didn't want to let go and be thrown back into Italy again. Italy was cold and wet this time of year. Ezio was offering samples of a far more exciting place.
For some reason the fact that this was Ezio bothered him less than the fact that this was another man whom he was kissing. And kissing Ezio he was; this was not a one-sided ordeal. Leonardo knew and trusted Ezio. Ezio would never hurt him or take advantage of him, and, truth be told, Leonardo was just as eager to explore his psyche as Ezio was to explore Leonardo's. If being physical was a promising way to achieve that, then so be it. Without a doubt, however, he would hold Ezio to his word of zero contemplation of sodomy. That court in Firenze had been much too difficult to battle.
Ezio released Leonardo and tossed his head slightly to move hair from his eyes. Leonardo touched his lips and stared at Ezio's smirk.
"You don't disappoint," Ezio said.
Leonardo made an unintelligent noise.
"Perhaps you should get some rest," Ezio said. "You seem a little slow."
Leonardo nodded.
