A bench. A dark archway. A market stall. Vieri frowned heavily as he continued to walk along the deserted road. Slowly, deliberately. His eyes were constantly scanning his surroundings, cold, calculating. An empty carriage, a few boxes. His frown deepened, if that was even possible. The fountain at the Piazza della Signoria (oh, he regretted this one seriously, cold and wet as it was.), the guards' lodge in front of it. Vieri stopped dead in his tracks. If he would continue walking, he would come to the cardinal's statue in front of the Palazzo Disegno and later to the Ponte Vecchio with its fucking segmental archs. On his way there he would pass a doctor's stand, a certain windowsill (how embarrassing), and a public toilet house (disgusting!).
Really, there seemed to be hardly anything in Florence that he had NOT been bent over or pressed against or, to put it simple, fucked against/in/on/at by Federico son-of-a-bitch Auditore. That cretino seemed to appear out of nowhere, sneaking up on him or dropping from a balcony, and he constantly caught Vieri off guard, using his damn sneaky assassins' skills, a firm grip or his sheer body weight to render Vieri defenseless. At least that bastardo had learned to kiss him first and grin at him later, making some teasing remark, eyes sparkling, his chest rumbling against Vieris with hardly suppressed laughter. Vieri would snap at him, struggling against his hold without any real chance of escaping while snarling every single insult at his captor his mind could come up with, once, twice, until the words would lose their bite. And Federico would simply wait patiently until the last Vaffanculo or Cazzo had passed Vieris lips, his breath came ragged, his mouth opening and closing in desperate search for words, and he would kiss him again… and… well.
Vieri shook his head to snap out of his thoughts. It was not that he wanted these encounters. Really, he hadn't asked for any of this, and he definitely didn't want to be constantly reminded of that fucker while walking through Florence, seeing the places where he had been trapped… Just yesterday he escorted his sister to the Villa Gamberaia to pay some shitty senator a shitty visit, and he had actually blushed when they passed the gardens in front of the building. This was getting embarrassing. It was worse enough that he constantly got into these… situations… he surely didn't want anyone to know about them!
Tonight, though, he hoped to get home safely. It was way past midnight, the streets empty apart from some beggars lurking in the shadows, and it would just be the perfect night for Federico to strike again. Vieri was returning from a banquet, and since it was a festivity arranged by the Medici bank, it was most likely that Federico knew Vieri was bound to participate. And so it was a perfectly logical idea to hire some courtesans and make them stand in front of the Auditore's palazzo all night. He had spared no efforts and hired a dozen of them, and also two relatively attractive young men playing lutes. Knowing Federico, the ever-horny and not-too-picky bastard, he would be easily distracted.
…on second thought, Vieri found his own plan to be ridiculous, and he quickened his pace, his eyes focusing on possible hideouts. He kept his distance to the buildings, aware of every shadow, every dark corner. Every tiny noise alarmed him, and once or twice he was seriously startled by a sudden movement, which he found to be cat or rat. His nerves were on edge, he felt like prey pursued by a hunter that was both invisible and completely soundless, while Vieri didn't even try to hide, or to move silently. If Federico wanted to find him, he would.
Nearly running the last few streets to his home, Vieri let out a sigh of relief when his eyes caught view of the building. He passed the piazza in front of it hurriedly, and cried out sharply when the floor simply vanished under his feet.
Fuck.