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. This chapter gets a warning for description of scars and implied violence causing them.
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.
A humongous THANK YOU to chocksawaychaps on Tumblr for being amazing and editing this. You are wonderful!
Girolamo huffed in amusement. Then, before he could stop himself, he began to laugh, the mirth bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him, like a dam had broken and released it—a true laugh that bordered on the hysterical. He wasn't at all sure that he was all right.
Leonardo raised himself on his elbow over him. "Was that really so bad a line?"
"Dreadful, just preposterous," Girolamo choked out.
"But my terrible lines idid/i work on you. You are in my bed."
"Yes, and what does that say about me?"
"That you have impeccable taste," Leonardo confided and leaned down to kiss him. Girolamo learned it was hard to laugh when there was another mouth blocking your own, but as he ran his fingers through the short hair at the back of Leonardo's head and grabbed tightly, he found he didn't mind.
Leonardo ran his hand up and down Girolamo's chest, then lower, over his stomach, making his abdominals tighten involuntarily. When Leonardo's hand drifted lower still, to curve around the soft skin of his hip, Girolamo stopped him with a little moan.
"Too soon?" Leonardo asked from where he was kissing down his throat.
"I need the privy," he said honestly, and Leonardo gave him a final kiss before letting him up with a gesture toward the next room. Girolamo sat up, searching for his trousers since he couldn't remember where they had ended up, then froze as Leonardo ran one of those nimble, inquisitive, blessed, cursed hands down his back.
"These scars. They would have been horrible injuries." Leonardo brushed a kiss against one bundle of scar tissue that stretched diagonally across his left shoulder and spine.
"And they look positively horrible," Girolamo said shortly. "Do they bother you?"
"Not at all," Leonardo replied, demonstrating by licking up one particularly large scar that went up his right shoulder nearly to his neck. Girolamo froze again, this time as his body began to react to the unexpectedly erotic attention. As he finally stood up, dislodging Leonardo's mouth, the artista just rolled onto his back and stared up at him. "If anything, it makes you more desirable because there are hidden depths to you, stories I'm sure you've never shared with anyone else. It intrigues me."
"Quite," Girolamo agreed weakly. He located his trousers on the floor some distance from the bed, but Leonardo laughed as he stepped into them for the short walk. Girolamo relieved himself and took a moment to look around the darkened rooms. He'd been too preoccupied to notice most of the living space when they'd entered, but now he could see that almost all of the flat surfaces were covered in manuscripts that he couldn't read in the dim light. There were many more pages hanging around a worktable, most of the walls, even—he saw as he ambled back in—around the bed.
Leonardo was lounging on the bed, possibly the longest time that Girolamo had ever seen him still in one position. That didn't last long as he jumped up, completely unconcerned with his nakedness, and approached Girolamo, who stopped, naturally wary. Leonardo only smiled and pulled him close by his hips, kissing him lightly. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."
While he also used the privy, Girolamo took the opportunity to pry with permission and began to look over all the papers decorating the walls. He ignored the sketches of his cousin and those of random Florentines as well as the red-haired girl from The Barking Dog. Instead, he picked up a notebook that looked the most well-worn and leafed through it.
"See anything you like?"
Girolamo's lips twitched as he glanced in Leonardo's direction, knowing he would be putting his nudity on display again. He wasn't disappointed. "Actually, I'm intrigued by these drawings of your infernal devices. May I see one of these marvels?"
Leonardo beckoned him back to sit on the bed then curled his bare body around Girolamo's back and hooked his chin on Girolamo's shoulder. He had to pay extra attention to the words that were being spoken since the position was very distracting. Leonardo reached around him to point out a series of drawings spread across two pages.
"This," Leonardo pointed, "is a device to slow the rate of descent."
"To slow the rate of descent? From where?"
"Say you were trapped in a fortress that had been breached. You could strap yourself into this and safely float down to freedom," Leonardo's voice sounded almost wistful as his finger trailed down the page.
"It's commendable," Girolamo said. "How were you able to overcome the difficulty of the weight versus the ratio of the amount of cloth and frame to use?"
If Girolamo had thought Leonardo looked at him with passion in his eyes before, it was nothing compared to what shone there now. "You have a keen mind, for a banking clerk," Leonardo murmured against his lips as he kissed him.
Girolamo pulled back and commanded, "Show me more." Leonardo obeyed, flipping through the notebook, retrieving more from his work table, baring his secrets to Girolamo's piercing questions. He stopped short of sharing his code and secret writings on some notes, but Girolamo memorized as much as he possibly could, mind reeling with the implications of so many of Leonardo's designs.
"This one, it could be troublesome," Girolamo said, tapping the drawing of what Leonardo referred to as a pipe organ musket. "Have you built a large-scale model to test?"
"No, not yet. It is among the first I have planned to cast and demonstrate to Lorenzo. What do you mean, it could be troublesome?"
Girolamo carefully didn't move to lean back into the heat of Leonardo, who had pulled away at the perceived slight to his invention. "How are you going to prevent leakage, the spilling of gunpowder from one row of cannons down to the next? There's the potential for a raw explosion, once the powder is hot from repeated firing."
"That's an interesting point," Leonardo all but tore the book from his hands, fingers flicking over the page. Girolamo could see the gears turning in his head as he thought it through. With his attention diverted, Girolamo look a moment to be amazed at the audacity of this … this sinner. This genius. He doubted his brother or the pope had anyone in their employ who could understand the plans, let alone duplicate and build them. He was stunned by the sheer magnitude of the artista's visions and the ways he was trying to make them a reality.
"You're staring," Leonardo said, finally shutting the book and putting it carefully down onto the floor.
"I was watching you make love to your design plans."
"Would you rather I was making love to you?" Leonardo reached for his face, pulling him close enough to dot a kiss on his forehead then his eyelids and his cheeks before reaching his open lips. Girolamo had just reached for his shoulder to steady himself when Leonardo said, "I'm rather amazed that you grasped the concepts of my designs so quickly. You have a brilliant mind."
"It lies in the shadows of one as brilliant as yours," Girolamo answered honestly, based on the facts he'd seen that night, but Leonardo seemed to enjoy the lavish compliment and kissed him again.
"I will take your critique under advisement," he murmured against Girolamo's lips. "And if I succeed in my search for the Book of Leaves, perhaps I will gain enough knowledge to make an impact on the entire world and impress you truly."
Girolamo's blood ran cold. That was something he had heard his brother and father whispering about with the keeper of the Vatican's Secret Archives. It was one of the many things they had not bothered to share with him, whether because they didn't trust him or—more likely—didn't think him worthy.
"What is that then? A compendium of arcane and occult knowledge?" he asked.
"I don't actually know," Leonardo admitted. "It's been said that it contains the greatest knowledge in the world. But, I don't yet know where to find it or even where to search next."
Girolamo didn't have to reply as Leonardo tumbled him down on his back on the bed. He welcomed the distraction from his thoughts as Leonardo went on talking. "I seem to remember that I was serenading you with terrible lines in a worthwhile attempt to impress you into my bed. Then you impressed me with your intellect, and we really need to get you out of these trousers."
"I should go. I do have to be at the bank in the morning," Girolamo said, trying to keep Leonardo's nimble fingers from unlacing him with little effort. Then Leonardo's mouth dropped to his nipples, the right first, then the left, and as his hips bucked instinctively, Leonardo stripped his trousers off.
"Do you really think the rest of the bank staff won't have taken the same opportunity of the carnival to revel and make merry? If any of them are in any condition to do figures tomorrow, well, it might actually be an improvement on their normal mental states. I won't be surprised if attendance is at an all-time low."
Any argument Girolamo would have mustered was cut off when Leonardo shifted his hips, bringing the hard length of his cock alongside the growing length of Girolamo's. From there, time slowed down and Girolamo was properly tempted to forget his troubling thoughts.
Leonardo as a lover was much like he as an inventor—passionate, focused, all-consuming, selfish in his pursuit of a satisfactory result. Though, when Girolamo shied from penetration, Leonardo took it in stride and in hand, moving his body in ways Girolamo didn't even know he could copy, but with some help finding the rhythm, he succeeded. He stroked down the artista's back, dug his fingers into the tight buttocks then finally grasped his hardness, feeling a wave of some powerful emotion when the touch made Leonardo gasp and falter in his thrust.
When they both lay satiated, Girolamo felt his shoulders begin to relax and knew that if he did not move soon, he would fall asleep. "I must go," he said as he rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up.
"You can stay."
"No, I must go so I can manage some rest before morning." He continued to dress, only looking back at Leonardo once his trousers were on. To his surprise, Leonardo was not dozing, but had retrieved his notebook from the floor and was rummaging on the table beside the bed until he found a pencil.
He looked up at Girolamo's quiet chuckle. "I only want to look at the loading position of the musket. I had a thought."
"You were able to think during that? Then surely we weren't doing something correctly."
Leonardo arched an eyebrow at the unexpected teasing. "I had the thought ibefore/i, but perhaps it is a surprise I was able to retain it iduring/i. I believe if I..." His voice trailed off as he bent over the book.
Girolamo's lips quirked as he dressed quickly, the glow of orgasm lasting longer than he'd thought. He remained quiet as Leonardo muttered to himself, fingers restlessly searching—for an answer? For a glimpse of the future? Girolamo didn't know. He thought he would leave silently while Leonardo was oblivious, but he focused again as Girolamo pulled on his coat.
"Thank you. This has been a most fascinating night."
Girolamo nodded, unsure how to respond, knowing he agreed but too overwhelmed at the moment to voice his thoughts. Leonardo just accepted his silence, got up and kissed him one last time, hard and fast.
"If you like, we could do this again."
"We'll see," Girolamo said and escaped, hearing him go back to rustling pages as soon as he was gone. Much to his surprise, there were still some revelers in the streets, disobeying curfew for one more celebration.
There would be no rest for him yet, either. He had to draft a report for Rome, listing the plans and designs he could remember, leave it in the prearranged spot for Lucrezia, then think long and hard about how he could learn any information about the Book of Leaves.
Several days passed in the comfortable routine to which Girolamo had grown accustomed in Florence. He performed his work admirably, as always, and the mundane tasks gave him plenty of time to think on the more important worries that plagued him.
His father and brother would be pleased that he had found out about Leonardo and his designs, but he should take the initiative to learn more. If he could actually copy details, draw some schematics of the more complex designs... Could he break into the studio and steal them? Go back to Leonardo under different circumstances?
He had succeeded in gaining very vital intelligence, but no one needed to learn the circumstances under which it had been obtained. As to whether he had enjoyed himself doing it... well, if forced under torture to admit it, he didn't particularly hate his work at the bank either. There was a certain satisfaction in doing an excellent job and reaping the rewards of it. But, that line of thinking led to more sinful thoughts of the satisfaction he had achieved at Leonardo's hands, and he was forced to think upon other, less pleasant things before he was able to leave his table at the bank.
He had just finished one such battle with himself when Leonardo swung into step with him as he left the bank.
"Three separated tiers of cylinders that will rotate on a drum, not stacked on top one another," Leonardo said.
Girolamo blinked, opened his mouth to give a proper greeting, but responded, "That could very well solve the problem of the gunpowder contamination, but how many cannons can you fire simultaneously before they face critical failure?"
Leonardo's smile was bright and sly. "That is what I'm going to find out tomorrow when the first casting is complete."
"Oh. Congratulations."
"Would you like to attend the demonstration next week? The Medici and several of the other esteemed nobles who might be convinced eventually to part with a few florins will be attending."
"No, I don't think that would be appropriate. I'm sure I'll hear a report if Giuliano is as keen as you think."
Leonardo almost pouted. "If you won't come to the unveiling of my musket, would you like to come back to my rooms and help me further my other studies?"
"And what would those those studies include?"
"Anatomy." Leonardo leaned closer and didn't touch him there in the public street, but Girolamo swore he could feel the heat of just his presence. "There are one or two biological functions I'm still unclear about and happen to be looking for a willing volunteer to undertake experimentation."
Girolamo cleared his throat and thought of his planned response. He had tried to consider what he would say to Leonardo if he had, in fact, ever propositioned him again. So far, the encounter was not acting like anything he'd imagined and prepared for. He thought he should find out more of Leonardo's designs and plans, perhaps even sneak some notes if he could arrange it, but now in the presence of the artista, he just wanted to move closer.
Leonardo was waiting for an answer, walking along beside him in pleasant company, and somehow Girolamo found himself saying, "That could be arranged."
The night was no less memorable than the first fevered encounter. Solving the problem with his musket seemed to free Leonardo's mind so his focus was solely on creating pleasure with Girolamo. He covered his body in kisses, stroking and caressing even his back, worshiping his body using his knowledge of human anatomy. Girolamo had never felt more relaxed or aroused, and he eagerly followed the opportunity with an exploration of Leonardo's body.
He was strong, tight, and lean corded muscle and sinew, and Girolamo dug his fingers in tightly as he touched. When Leonardo brought out a vial of oil, Girolamo was too aroused to argue. He let Leonardo prepare him and take him, gently but firmly, his body finally opening for the invasion even as he clenched his eyes tightly closed so he could not see Leonardo's expression.
"Beautiful. Stunning. I cannot wait to draw you again, just like this," Leonardo murmured against his lips and lavished compliments as he took him, bringing him along to climax first before he thrust and shook to completion.
Afterward, Girolamo waited for the guilt to arrive, but, as before, he felt only a sense of emptiness. He cleaned up as Leonardo set out some bread and fruit, poured wine and prepared the table. Girolamo finally accepted his invitation to stay and eat. Leonardo played distractedly with an odd-looking key, twirling it between his fingers as he praised the virtues of eating a diet without meat. Girolamo tried to turn the conversation to more of Leonardo's designs, picking several at random from the wall that all seemed to focus on means of flight. But, Leonardo was more interested in speculating what would happen when he finally demonstrated the musket, and Girolamo decided he must leave.
Leonardo pressed him gently against the wall and stroked a hand down his flank to cup a buttock, rocking their hips together. "Don't you want to stay here with me tonight and undergo further anatomical studies?"
"I rather think not."
"Are you sore? I can do something about that."
"I am quite sure that anything you can do about ithat/i would not end with helping."
Leonardo's smile was wicked. "You are probably right. If I cannot tempt you into another round, will you at least attend the musket demonstration? I perform best for an audience in awe and with you there, I know I would have at least one person capable of comprehending my genius."
"You flatter me," Girolamo said wryly, "but I am not going to attend a cannon test that could very well end in an earth-shattering explosion and giant fireball that takes out half the noble families of Florence."
"Your positive encouragement and unbridled support warm me, truly," Leonardo replied, dramatically placing his hand over his heart.
"Think on that when you light the fuse."
Leonardo laughed, leaned in and kissed him thoroughly. Girolamo found he had to unclench his hands from Leonardo's shoulders before he could finally get away.
The euphoria lasted until he saw the mark that designated a message awaited him from Rome. It was hidden away, under a paving stone in the corner of an alley. The message read only, "Great interest in da Vinci and his designs. He must be brought to our side, but not by you. Do not reveal yourself. Rome will send a papal emissary as soon as possible."
The parchment crackled as Girolamo's fist tightened. He knew what that meant—his brother would be coming to Florence. If he and the Holy Father wanted Leonardo to be converted to Rome's interests, they would stop at nothing to make that happen. They might try bribery, or persuasion, and if those failed, they would most definitely try coercion. Failing all that, if Leonardo still refused to help Rome, Riario was fully capable of assassinating him to keep his genius ideas from falling into enemy hands.