DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Ubisoft; these golf clubs are damn good. Let's hope they let us complete a round without suing us! We're just poor little penguins and it would totally ruin our day to be sued.

On another note; apologies for the long sabbatical. One poor little penguin had to work all the hours penguin-God sent, and the other had to pop off to Peru for a month. But we're back... and much more to follow. Little penguin who was in Peru has come down with malaria, so please send fish healing goodness (reviews). Oh, and there is some violence in this one so those with nervous disposition should look away now!

Ezio tipped up the glass, slipping his tongue eagerly inside to collect the last drops that hung to the side of the vessel. He felt his head grow heavy with each drop of the ghastly, harsh red wine; however, twenty goblets down, he could hardly complain. The hours slowly dragged on, and only a few remained in the bordello to enjoy the company of the courtesans, who had long grown bored of entertaining the various men who pawed away at them. From his lonely position, Ezio watched one of his favourite girls; she caught his eye from the distance and came over, dropping herself into his lap. He grunted in displeasure, his temper short.

"Ezio," she purred, "I am lonely." Ezio simply nodded in response, one hand shooting into the air and waving for yet another goblet of wine. "Are you not lonely, Ezio? You are all on your own." The wine came and Ezio again brought the vessel to his lips and drained the liquid in a few gulps without pausing for breath. "Ezio..." The girl continued her purring. "Shall we go upstairs, darling? Please, I am so bored!"

"Go." Ezio's voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper. The girl did not register it, her hands moving over his body, pushing them down into his shirt, teasing at the hot skin below, her fingers slowly coming to his nipples. They were hard, but not for her. She kept pushing into him, and Ezio's restraint broke, his manners severing with it, and he threw the girl from him. "Go Now!" As the girl scampered away he stood to his feet and swayed into the table. The hard heavy wooden table smacked into his groin and he half-collapsed over it, groaning under his breath. How dare his father send him away? And for what? For the friendships he had been keeping? And how did he know about Leonardo? Even the thought of his name sent his mind racing. He struggled upright. He was allowed to chose his own friends, and Le... that man... he ran a hand across his face trying to sober himself with his own touch. His new friend had been in trouble and he had helped him. What was wrong with that? What was wrong enough with that to deserve banishment? Ezio padded from the table to the open bordello door and breathed in the cool night air. The words his father had used still rang in his ears. His father had described acts, acts Ezio had never even imagined before, as if Ezio was guilty of them. From his father he had learned of Leonardo's crimes, but he had not felt the same rage and disgust for his friend that his father's voice had so clearly shown. Leonardo was... Ezio couldn't breathe thinking about it... But how had his father known about his night with Leonardo at this bordello? He swayed, and as his body moved back into the bordello, crashing against a wall, his eyes turned to the second floor and fell upon that door. That door... that door... Ezio was walking before he even noticed it.

Leonardo's body was propelled from his bed, wet with sweat, as the images of Ezio's face faded into the dark and the cold dying hours of the night. Leonardo pulled his sheet closer, holding them tight to his pounding chest, his heart beat sounding above the empty, friendless void. He struggled to catch his breath, his mind racing recalling Ezio's tight, youthful frame against his body. Their mouth meeting, ferocious with passion and hunger. Ezio's strong, skilled hands burning Leonardo's flesh as they teased his body to euphoria, and with each deft touch Leonardo elicited moans of absolute pleasure. Their naked bodies fell together, and Leonardo could feel an ache and a panic: his desire had to be unleashed, had to be released, but Ezio was inexperienced, had not loved like this before. But Ezio's dark eyes which looked down on Leonardo were filled with fearless confident, promising fulfilment. There was no need for Leonardo to fear anymore - Ezio was holding him, loving him and protecting him from the world and from himself.' Leonardo stirred, needing to feel that power again, but as he reached an arm out, seeking out that warm body, he found only cold sheets and a harsh, stone wall. Ezio was not there... had never been there...Once again Leonardo found himself alone, and a panic took hold of his body. The smallest of noises from the streets caused him to jump and he felt the darkness close in around him. He knew what was to come and he was afraid.

Ezio faltered at a door on the second floor he had stood at twice before. His drunken thoughts swam through his mind, listening to his aching groin. He pushed open the door. A man sat there on the bed, and for the first time Ezio saw the face of this prostitute properly. Undoubtedly the man was handsome, and as he turned to look at him Ezio saw the kind, but sorrowful eyes that made him think of Leonardo. The man stood from the bed, naked before him. His body strong and muscled, but purple bruises marred the olive toned flesh, while old wounds danced across his body. Although tall and strong, he seemed fragile and in that torrid place, he appeared to Ezio like some wilted flower. Around the room lay gold coins, enough for a good dwelling and food, but it lay unspent, unneeded. The other girls did not wait long: they collected their prize and left. His earning lay only as a sad reminder to the truth of the falsehoods of his life, of loves that were never real. Ezio made to step into the room with the man as the man walked towards him, with crying eyes. But Ezio couldn't. He couldn't move forward. Instead as the man reached him, he pushed a few coins in the man's hand, but the pieces fell through the limp grasp and he made no move to gather them. One coin rolled, after hitting the floor with a loud crack, and added to one of the piles that littered the ground. Ezio made to speak, but could think of nothing to say; instead, he offered his kindness. Reaching out, Ezio reached around the shoulders of the man, who seemed to collapse into his body, and drew him into an embrace. They stood, the man slowly linking his arms around Ezio's back, and for a while they remained like that, unmoving and unaware of the passage of time. Finally, Ezio found his voice. "He never paid you did he?"

"Who?" The man's head moved against his chest.

"Leonardo."

The name hung between them, but finally Ezio felt the man's head move in confirmation. "He has been with me two years maybe...we have known each other longer I think..."

Ezio could feel something wet against his skin, and the man's body lurched forward, and Ezio supported him, keeping the man up. The delicate body shuddered in Ezio's arms as sobs violently racked the man's frame. "My friend, what is wrong?"

The man pushed away from Ezio's chest and, wiping tears from his face, stared up at him. "It is nothing...really..."

"Please."

The man bit his lip, hesitant and afraid. "The man who was here before you, sir; I made to kiss him...he called me unnatural. I should know...they never want to be kissed by me." His voice broke, the pain finally revealing itself on the man's tired face. "Only your friend has kissed me...I am not unnatural, I have not sinned against nature..."

Ezio felt an anger bubble and rise within him. "Where is the man now?"

"Outside, outside in the alley."

"Thank you, my friend." He turned to leave, his fury guiding him. He made it down the corridor before he was brought to a halt. He returned to the room. "My friend? What is your name?"

"Silvio."

Ezio reached a hand out to Silvio, and grasping it firmly pulled the man closer. With him close, Ezio lay a kiss on Silvio's lips. It was gentle, but Silvio did not pull away, but, rather, the soft flesh curved into a smile against Ezio's lips. "I hope you find happiness, my friend, Silvio."

The cool air of the approaching morning caused Ezio to shiver as he entered into the alley behind the Bordello. Still his anger led him on. Clenching his fists, he paced toward to his target. He approached unseen, unheard, and removed the man's feet from the ground, catapulting his mass into the air and hurling him against the stone wall as his fists began their assault. They desperately beat the man, the aggression Ezio had stored all evening finding its escape. With each punch, he felt the snapping of tendons and the cracking of bones as flecks of blood splashed back onto his face and clothes. The man made no resistance, but howled into the dark; raping the silence. His body fell limp to the ground but, Ezio, still enraged, took hold of the man's neck and dragged him up. He pointed the man's face to Silvio's darkened window, and shoving the weakened body forward hissed, "He is not unnatural!" Ezio threw the man to his feet and delivered one final blow: he pulled his leg back and kicked out with such force between the man's legs that he sent him spiralling backwards. Another shriek went out into the night and the man collapsed, his head connecting with a thud to the ground. Ezio looked down at the crumpled mass of flesh, fatigue setting in, and as he stepped over the body and directed his feet back out into the street, he failed to notice the face which appeared at the window overlooking the alley or the gratitude that lay in the eyes of the beholder.

Leonardo was awakened by a pounding on his workshop door. He rose in a flash and made towards the outer room, but then stayed his paces. The pounding was so intense it could only mean one thing... he slunk back to bed and put his head under the covers. It was the guards, come to take him away for crimes against morality; crimes against nature. Tears began to well in his eyes. He had committed no crimes against his nature.

Ezio fists continued their poundings and with each contact with the heavy wooden door they became louder and louder. With no response, Ezio took a clumsy step back into the street, his eyes focusing on a window on the second floor. "Leonardo!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face, mixing with blood which was not his own. "Leonardo!" His voice tore through the still night; in his mind the moon and the stars and the sun fell to the streets of Florence and Ezio stamped on each in turn. He called one last time and halfway through the name – which sent his body into a rage – the door was thrown open. Not a word was said, but a hand beckoned him inside. The place was dark; the only light was provided by a dwindling candle. Ezio tore into the workshop, as the door slammed behind him, and he found his body pinned to the wall.

"Ezio! Why are you here? Why -"

"I must leave. I must go – because of you! Because of what they say about you..."

Leonardo felt his strength drain, his grip on Ezio failed. He stumbled backwards like a wounded animal, terror freezing his body, and he felt the candle light expose every inch of him. He wanted to hide that part of himself. But he could not escape those eyes: he trusted those eyes to judge – better than he trusted his own. He felt naked but standing before this man he felt no fear. There was a glimmer of hope.

"Ezio, why are you here?"

Ezio's eyes fell to the floor, and for a moment, Leonardo recognised a flash of weakness, but it was gone as soon it was there, and he felt his stomach drop to the floor. He didn't dare to breathe before the judgement was cast.

"Ezio..."

"I'm not here to judge you Leonardo, I have no judgements to make..." Ezio walked towards Leonardo, bringing his body into the candlelight. He took the artist's face in his hands and looked into his eyes. "I needed to say goodbye; I don't want to leave, but they tell me I have to, because of what you are... because of what my being around you may lead to."

Leonardo felt tears well in his eyes which he could not explain as much as he could not hide. "Giovanni told you to leave, because of me?"

Ezio did not relinquish his grasp, but Leonardo wished he would. He felt exposed, and foolish, standing before this man considering the thoughts he had had mere minutes before. He was barely dressed; a loose cotton shirt and unbuttoned breeches forming the only shield between his aching body and this beautiful young man.

"Ezio I am so sorry..."

"For what Leonardo!" he threw the man from him, hurtling Leonardo backwards into the darkness. Leonardo stumbled, and from his new position he saw for the first time the tears and the blood which covered Ezio's face. He saw his knuckles, black and bloody, cut and aching. Yet still he saw no judgement. "I am sick of these apologies; I hated hearing them from Silvio and I do not want to hear them from you." Ezio moved hurriedly towards Leonardo but collapsed into his chest, his body finally giving out from fatigue. Leonardo managed to manoeuvre him into a chair by the fireplace where he left him, his eyes always remaining fixed on those eyes while he lit more candles; Ezio never dropped his gaze.

"What did you do to Silvio?"

Ezio forced himself up from the chair, but his wearied body failed and he collapsed back down. "I have done nothing to Silvio. I am not like those other men...Why would I do such a thing to Silvio? Why would I do anything to Silvio?" His voice was harsh and challenging.

Leonardo kept his eyes on the young man and could see the confusion within his eyes. A small contented smiled played upon Leonardo's lips: Ezio defied the reason of all others; defied the reason of his family and those he would call friends. Leonardo watched as the young man adjusted himself in the chair, his fists pushing down as he hoisted his body up, the blood still trickling from the wounds on his hands. There was a brief wince of pain in Ezio's face, but the young man uttered no sound. Now, Leonardo was not the only one exposed. Ezio sat before him, drunk and exhausted, and bleeding. Leonardo's heart flushed at the thought he may be bleeding for him.

"Ezio, let me get you some food, and let me see to your wounds. You are bleeding..."

"I'm fine Leonardo, I'm fine."

"You're not." Leonardo moved back towards Ezio and took his hands in his, turning them over to examine the knuckles. Just touching Ezio's hands was like some guilty pleasure realised, but the sight of the damage stayed his passion. Ezio's hands were raw; the blood was seeping out and the bruises were adopting their greatest shade of purple. Accepting the inevitable empty feeling in his stomach which would come from dropping Ezio's touch, Leonardo moved back to the kitchen where he procured a bowl of water. He returned to Ezio. Lifting his hands to the thin cotton nightshirt we wore, he ripped the material into strips, exposing more of his flesh as he did so. Concentrated as he was on caring for Ezio's wounds he missed the widening of the young man's eyes as he removed the material covering his body. Slowly, Leonardo dipped the ripped fabric into the water and brought the dripping fragments to Ezio's hands. As he swept the material gently across Ezio's wounds he recognised the likeness of those hands to... but he pushed those thoughts from his mind. "You won't tell me what happened; you are stubborn I know, like the rest of your family, but let me deal with these wounds." He continued wiping away the blood, never feeling a flinch as the soothing water flooded into Ezio's wounds. "Let me make you some food afterwards..." He continued to wipe away the dried blood. "... I... I... I don't..."

"I don't want to leave." Ezio said, taking the words from Leonardo and allowing the artist to breathe again. Leonardo stopped his ministrations. Standing and removing the bowl of water, he walked back to the kitchen and removed his now trashed shirt.

"Take off your shirt." Leonardo demanded, not daring to look up. "You're covered in blood. Take it off, I have something you can wear... and I'll make you something to eat."

His demand was met with only silence, and finally he had to turn around; as he did so he saw Ezio watching him, not having made a move. Ezio raised his eyes to meet those of the artist, and Leonardo saw the young man smirk. "Remove it?" The voice was challenging, but not cruel.

"It's covered in blood Ezio," Leonardo flushed, "Take it off; I will get you something else to wear."

Ezio leant forward in the chair and caught sight of the glass of wine which Leonardo had disregarded hours earlier. He brought it to his lips and started to drink. Downing the glass in one, Ezio stood and walked to the small kitchen area of the workshop. Standing immediately before Leonardo, he looked straight into the other man's eyes. He said nothing, but did not drop Leonardo's gaze, and refused to let the artist drop his, as he slowly brought his bloody hands to the catches on his shirt. Gently, he undid the catches and brought it, now open, back to his shoulders. Leonardo barely dared to look, and he could not allow himself to leave the hold of Ezio's eyes. As Ezio slipped the shirt down over his shoulders and arms and tossed it to the artist, Leonardo had to look. He couldn't stop himself. His eyes fell from Ezio's gaze and traced down the young man's strong chest. He saw the muscles; the short dark hairs, and he saw those hard nipples... Once again he couldn't breathe. He caught the shirt and brought it close to him. He could smell Ezio's sweat upon it, but he was fully aware the young man was watching him.

"I'll get you another..."

Leonardo left the room and went to his drawers. Searching through them, he found an old shirt he hadn't worn in years and wouldn't miss. He pushed aside the excitement he felt at the idea Ezio may soon be wearing something of his. Walking back out into the main workshop, he threw the shirt at the young man. This time he didn't bother to avert his gaze as the young man strained to catch the item. Leonardo watched Ezio's abs tighten and his arms clench as he strained to catch the garment. Having caught the item, Ezio turned to him.

"Are you sure you don't mind me borrowing this?"

Leonardo caught his breath in time to reply, "Of course not, I'll get the other one back to you soon... let me fix you something to eat."

Leonardo forced himself to walk back past the still-undressed Ezio towards the kitchen. Searching this small room he located some tomatoes and onions, and some slightly stale bread. Slicing the items together, he threw them into a large pot with some olive oil and wine, and lit the kindling in his wood-burning oven. He could barely keep his mind on the task in hand, so aware was he of Ezio's eyes following his every movement. Giving up, finally, he threw the pot of meagre fare into the barely-lit fire and turned around to face the young man. Ezio had yet to put on the shirt Leonardo had given him, and much to his surprise, and delight, he found himself staring genuinely unintentionally at Ezio's chest. There was definition to his body created from pure athleticism alone, and despite the threats hanging over him for wanting this sin, Leonardo couldn't tear his eyes away. Ezio Auditore was here, in his home, half-naked and exhausted, drunk and bleeding, with nowhere to sleep… but his bed… his manhood sprung to life at the very thought. Why on earth did he give him that damn shirt?

Ezio now pulled it on and Leonardo couldn't help, but feel sorrowful. But he had seen enough. Returning to the kitchen in a bid to hide the excitement which threatened soon to become noticeable through his loosely-fitting breeches, Leonardo attempted to regain his composure.

"I am sorry Leonardo," Ezio purred, fastening the shirt onto his body; it pulled across his chest exposing every muscle as the fabric strained to contain his strength. "I shouldn't have come here tonight; I shouldn't have brought all this down on you… I… it's just that…"

Leonardo waited patiently; he could see the young man struggling to find the words, but he wanted to hear what Ezio had to say. And he wanted to keep him here longer. He needed Ezio to be with him tonight. He still didn't understand why the man was here, but somehow he felt safer being around him, and he couldn't deny the excitement sparking through his body… excitement when for months he had felt nothing but angst and terror, and maybe even hatred, for what he was.

"… It's just that… I don't want to leave… and I don't see why I should. I want to be here in Florence… where I can see you."

Leonardo stopped breathing entirely at that. "You shouldn't say things like that Ezio… it's dangerous…" He failed entirely to hide the sorrow in his eyes, but before he knew it Ezio was upon him, joining him in the kitchen.

"I can say what I like Leonardo…" He took the artist's face in his hands once again and brought them close together. Leonardo could feel the younger man's warm breath on his lips, and he was grateful for the strong arms as he melted into the flagstone floor. "… I'm dangerous too."

'And with those words Ezio leaned into Leonardo and kissed him. The artist felt the young man's tongue dart inside his mouth, never fearful, as he explored every inch of him, imploring with his taste and breath for Leonardo to expose himself before him. Standing, weakened before the young man, Leonardo fought back, uncertain and confused, but desperate for this taste and this touch. Finding his strength finally, he reached his hands into Ezio's hair and tore out the ribbon imprisoning it. The long, thick strands fell amongst his fingers and Leonardo rutted against the young man. Ezio never flinched; never made to move away. Instead he brought his hands around Leonardo's body, tracing down the small of the artist's back and bringing them to rest on his tight arse. Before Leonardo could question what was happening, Ezio had lifted him bodily, hands still securely in position and pushed him onto the kitchen table. Leonardo wanted to hide his excitement, but unlike his other Auditore lover, Ezio moved one hand straight to his crotch. As Ezio explored, still raping his mouth with his tongue, he kept one hand firmly on Leonardo's arse massaging it as his other rubbed at the artist's now-exposed pleasure. Leonardo rose up to meet his every touch, but there was no need. Ezio knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it… take it from him… fuck him right there and then on this damn table like there would never be another dawn…'

"Leonardo… do you think I could eat soon? I need to be gone before dawn… I still have to leave you."

And as Leonardo turned away to fetch Ezio his food, he shed another tear over another Auditore brother.