AN: First of all... Please don't kill me. I just prefer dom!Leonardo over dom!Ezio. It's sexier. Much sexier than the whole 'omg, I'm Leonardo da Vinci and I'm just sooo helpless and girly and omg Ezio you're such a strong man lololol I'm urs 4everrr!" thing. Because quite frankly, da Vinci is all fucking man (Haha. I said fucking man), and I can't honestly believe that he would be the chick in the relationship. Sure, there's his adorable wittle outer shell, but I think that deep down on the inside is this big, bad, sexy beast that's just dying to be let out of his cage. And I'm thinking we should let that delicious fucker out.

WARNING TIEM: Holy shit, there's slash and dirty stuff in here. When mixed together, it smells like sugar cookies and semen. :D

Chapter Uno:


It hadn't been one of those extremely meaningful, 'romantic' moments when Leonardo realized that his feelings for his closest friend ran a little deeper than simply, ahem, platonic friendship.

It just sort of happened, sneaking up on him like food poisoning, leaving him confused and nauseated.

The day that Leonardo would forever call 'Get the Picture Day' started off like any other in Venice. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, the market was buzzing, the whores were boning, the thieves were stealing, and the guards were... uh... chasing the thieves.

The artist woke up with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach and he couldn't wait to start the new day. Changing out of his pajamas (no, it was not a nightgown) and into his usual attire, he hurried downstairs.

It was really a lovely day and he was hoping that maybe he'd have enough time to go out for a walk or something.

However, despite his cheery disposition and the wonderful day that was bound to happen, Leonardo couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something.

Stepping carefully over the sketches and notes that littered the floor ('I'll organize them later,'he constantly told himself) he made his way to his main desk which was also drowning in papers. He moved them aside one by one (often getting distracted by either a particularly interesting drawing that he didn't remember ever doing, or by a silly quote that he must've overheard in the marketplace) until he eventually came across what he was looking for; his daily planner. Which was his entire adult life written into appointments, important events, and deadlines.

He himself wasn't sure why he wrote deadlines down because he always seemed to forget them, but he wrote them anyways. Because there were days where he would look at his daily planner and, by mere luck, be reminded of said deadlines.

This was one of those days.

"Cazzo!" Leonardo exclaimed as he read and reread the note he had written to himself at the beginning of the month.

Landscape (Building) Painting – The Thieves' Hideout

Commissioned by: Antonio

Due: In 30 days; is to be delivered at midnight.

Note To Self: There is no procrastinating allowed. Antonio is a terror.

The artist gulped audibly. Antonio de Magianis, the Robin Hood of Italy, was definitely a terror. Especially when it came to how he spent his money. Which was kind of ironic, since he was a thief. Rosa had somehow persuaded him to buy a piece of art from Leonardo ("She is the one who wants it, not I," Antonio had ever so nicely explained.) and had been warned by the man himself that he did not give two shits about rushing art; if the painting was not ready by the time he expected it finished then there would be hell to pay. Because Antonio sure as fuck wasn't going to pay for something that arrived late.

Leonardo shuddered, looking at his planner again for the eleventh time. The damned thing was to be in Antonio's hands by tomorrow. And he had only finished the rough draft!

Groaning to himself, he closed the planner and made his way across his workshop, sitting down on the wooden chair in the corner. Leonardo leaned back into it, placed a hand over his eyes, and let out a sigh. He needed time. Time to think, time to breathe, time to figure out how the hell he would pull off a decent painting in just a little over 24 hours. He just... needed time.

"Leonardo, are you alright?"

Ezio's voice came from literally right fucking next to him, scaring the living daylights out of the artist and almost (but not quite) making him fall off his chair.

"Mio dio! Jesus Christ, Ezio, do you ever knock like a normal person!?" Leonardo exclaimed, eyes wide.

"M-Mi dispiace, Leonardo," Ezio replied, shocked by Leonardo's outburst. "I forget that I am so quiet sometimes."

The artist exhaled loudly and pressed two fingers to one of his temples.

"Apologies, my friend. I did not mean to snap at you."

"Everyone has their days. Do not worry about it."

Leonardo took it upon himself to actually look at Ezio for the first time since the... intrusion.

The younger man was indeed standing right next to the sitting artist, brown eyes confused and slightly uncertain but smiling nonetheless. It looked as though he wanted to ask something, but was also somehow unsure of it.

'How curious,' thought Leonardo. 'That is not something I would expect from Ezio.'

"What can I do for you, Ezio?"


"You came here for a reason, did you not? What can I do?"

"Oh, right. Well..." Ezio pulled back the half-cape that was draped over his shoulder, revealing... red.

Lots and lots of red. Red that appeared to be stretching across the white of Ezio's robes as the moments dragged on. Red that seemed to be centering around something that looked like an arrow in the assassin's shoulder.

Leonardo's mind was not fully awake yet, so it took a few seconds for things to finally click.

"Ezio, you are wounded! Why did you not tell me sooner!?" He grabbed Ezio by the wrist and dragged him over to the large table that he had dubbed as 'Ezio's Table'. You know, the table where Leonardo da Vinci magically transforms into Dottore Leonardo da Vinci, master of all that is sharp and painful.

Yeah. That one.

"Sorry, Leonardo," Ezio said quite calmly for a man who had an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. "I forgot. I was daydreaming."

"You forgot? Ezio, how could you daydream over pain?"

The younger man simply grinned. "I do not know... Perhaps I was having a Leonardo moment."

And there it was. The feeling that had snuck up so quietly behind him. There it was, making him confused and jittery.

Ezio hadn't done much. Just a friendly comment, just a simple smile.

But somehow it had a huge impact on him, and he felt his stomach twist almost violently. It wasn't something Leonardo could put his finger on. It happened every single time he spoke with the assassin, every time he saw him, and yet it always caught him by surprise.

Leonardo paused for a moment, and looked at Ezio. Bleeding on the table. Perhaps he should actually start helping his friend instead of staring at him. God, of all the times to space out...

"What happened to you?" the artist asked softly, as he helped the assassin on to the table.

"It's sort of a long story. And it's a little bizarre. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"We have time, and I like bizarre stories," Leonardo answered, his eyes fixated on the wound. The arrow had entered through the back, and the tip was slightly poking out of his shoulder. This was going to be painful.

"Alright, well... I was running across the rooftops when I came across a sparrow's nest –"

"A sparrow's nest? How lovely! You always find such nice things on your quests over rooftops..." Leonardo chimed as he placed one hand on Ezio's shoulder, and the other around the middle of the arrow.

Ezio didn't seem to notice, which made things a lot easier on the both of them.

"Yes, I saw a sparrow's nest. May I continue? Grazie. Anyways, it makes me pause for a moment because I've never seen any bird nests in Venezia before. So I walk towards it when all of a sudden I hear a guard yelling at me to get down. I'm not really in the mood for a fight, so I do what he tells me to. However, on my way over to the nest I think I must've snagged a part of my sash in the wall, and when I try to walk over to the ledge to climb back down... I... um... well, I trip. And fall on my face."

Leonardo had been listening intently, momentarily forgetting about the arrow he was supposed to rip out of his friend's back. He was soon grinning at the assassin's clumsiness (and the fact that the younger man was extremely embarrassed by it) and it wasn't long before the grin turned into a few barks of laughter.

"My my, Ezio," Leonardo chuckled as he re-tightened his grip on the arrow. "Graceful as a lion, aren't you?"

"Shut the fuck up, Leonar – AGH! Son of a bitch, that hurts!"

The artist couldn't help the small smirk that flitted across his lips.


"Aren't you going to finish your story?" Leonardo questioned from his spot behind his portable easel.

The two men sat side by side out in front of Antonio's hideout for thieves and whatnot.

Leonardo was painting away like a madman with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other, whilst Ezio sat quietly, sulking.

"No, I'm not."

"But I want to know what happens!"

"Tough shit."

Leonardo exhaled loudly and turned to face Ezio, giving him a disapproving look.

"I had to pull that arrow out, my friend. What else could I do?"

"You could've at least warned me," the assassin mumbled under his breath. "But no, you just yank it out. And you were smiling too! You cannot deny the fact that you were smiling! I saw it! Huh...? Ah, you're smiling again! Do not smile at my pain! You are so cruel to me."

"That is not true and we both know it," Leonardo retorted, trying to force back the smile that had upset Ezio for the second time that day. "But I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Sure you didn't."

"Are you going to finish your story?"

Ezio finally cracked a smile and turned to look at his friend.

"Persistent, aren't we?"

"Your stories are intriguing. Only you can get into trouble like you do," was Leonardo's prompt response, and he turned back to his painting.

Ezio's face went blank for a second before he burst out laughing. It was the kind of laugh that was extremely infectious and it sent shivers up the artist's spine. No, not the good kind of shivers. The amazing kind.

"True... But I do believe I have overstayed my visit. Perhaps we should save my story for another day, hm?"

"You're leaving me with a cliffhanger? That isn't fair," Leonardo hissed.

"Many things in life aren't fair," Ezio replied, and it was that tone that made the artist realize that the younger man was going into that dark, brooding 'assassin mode' of his.

Turning away from his painting, he placed his brush and palette on the ground. He then straightened himself back up and smiled fondly at his closest amico.

"Be safe, my friend."

He outstretched his arms, in the obvious gesture of a hug.

There was a moment of pause, where Leonardo could see a trace of hesitation in Ezio's eyes. But then it was gone, the space between the two filled, and the artist could only smell cologne that seemed to be way too sweet to be on the neck of such a deadly man.

"Grazie, Leonardo," Ezio said softly.

And then he was gone.

Leonardo sighed to himself, picking his equipment back up off of the ground.

It was at that very moment when it had just sort of happened.

The nausea and tightness in his stomach, as well as his throat, snuck up on him again. Except this time he was ready for it, almost expecting it. There was no confusion as to where it came from, or when it would be leaving. It was just something that happened when Ezio was around. It would go away when Leonardo got distracted by something else. Which just happened to be the shiny object on the ground.

Walking over to it, Leonardo's quizzical expression quickly turned to one of amusement.

"Ah. His dagger."

'Ezio, Ezio, Ezio,' Leonardo chuckled to himself, picking up the dagger and admiring the craftsmanship before walking back to his easel and placing it on the ground next to him.

"He will be back by nightfall."

And that was the day when Leonardo calmly realized that his feelings for his best friend were more than what they appeared to be.