"Your hand."

"What about it?"

"Your hand."


"It is on my ass."


" … are you serious?"

"Che? What is wrong with that?"


Antonio appreciates Ezio.

"Ah, Ugo—you are quite a looker when you laugh."

Truly, he is a great friend, a man who one could count on, even in the most grievous of situations—a brother in arms, as well as a fine Grand Master for their creed. He would invariably sacrifice his time and opportunities in order to provide aid for whatever plight there was, and, of course, was the type of companion he could greet with a load of drinks and women.

"Ch-Che? Such absurd words!"

Antonio appreciates Ezio.

"But it is true: Look, your smile is even making Rosa blush."

No, really, he did.


Or not.

If he could just figuratively shoot daggers …


Ugo arched a brow as the older man raked his gaze over his form in appreciation, quirking the corner of his mouth when all he received was a low whistle. "Che? Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no: Not in such a negative way." A grin. "I simply like what I see."

"Do you?"

Languidly, Antonio strode over to the other and brushed his hand over the curve of his shoulder, withdrawing his touch right after an involuntary shiver.

"My room, immediatamente."


"A-Antonio … !"

Gently, the older man nibbled on Ugo's ear, his breath caressing the back of the other male's nape in diabolical heat. "Quiet, now; you do not want dear Rosa to hear of this, do you?"

"N-N-No …" A squirm. "But do not—" A moan. "Aye!"

Antonio effortlessly shifted, his arm snaking up to draw the flushed thief closer while he continued to fist said being's length—he could feel that Ugo was close, if the erratic breathing had anything to do with the quicker tempo of his own gratification. Grabbing onto his buttocks boldly, he hitched the other's leg around his waist and ground their arousals together.

"Only I can hear your voice like this, hai capito?"