Woah, I'm back. With something a little better this time. A fluffy EzioxLeo piece! :O

Disclamer: I know: I did research, and bubble baths weren't around in Renaissance Italy, but the prompt on pt. 2 pg. 36 was for a bubble bath.

I will use any comments regarding the nonexistence of bubble baths to heat my own. :) Have a good day.

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Leonardo sighed as he set his paintbrush down. He glanced at the mark: it was simply too dark. It would not do. He blinked the weariness from his eyes and looked out the small window in his studio. The sun was setting, and the stars were just starting to peek through. He frowned and began to put his supplies away.

Salai had raised Hell today. He had made it quite clear he did not like Ezio. The boy threw a fit when Leonardo had murmured aloud he missed him.

"Why do you like him so much, maestro? He treats you like shit!"

"Salai! Do not say such things—"

Salai had moved so they were nose-to-nose. "Do not lie, maestro! He is never around! He is always wanted and moving from place to place! Why do you hurt yourself waiting for him, when he will never be yours?"

Leonardo had been stunned into silence as Salai stormed out into the streets. He was probably in the thieves' guild now. He needed to punish the boy for his behavior, yet he could not find it in himself to if what the boy said was the truth. He felt the sinking feeling in his stomach as he thought about Ezio. The man had been out now for weeks without being able to contact him. He had hoped that one day, Ezio might settle down and run the Brotherhood from one spot, but he had always been called a dreamer.

With a sigh, he finished cleaning and walked up the stairs to his room. He started a fire and slumped in the chair in front of it, watching the flames dance. He thought about how he would love to draw Ezio in front of a fire, but it made for terrible shadows—he'd have to write a note about it in his notebooks eventually. But, the man would not sit still long enough: even in his sleep, he moved around. Leonardo knew this fact well.

He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. It had been weeks since he had last seen the assassin, and he could feel the tension in his shoulders. If the assassin had died, it might be even longer before he knew. With another sigh, he decided it would be best if he relaxed, but there was nothing he could do that wouldn't remind him of Ezio.

After the sun had disappeared, he heard the door open and close, and a soft, "Maestro?" rung through the hallway.

"In here, Salai," he called back.

Several moments later, he heard the door creak open.

"Maestro, I am sorry for my outrage earlier. It was—"

"The truth, Salai. Never apologize for the truth."

He felt the young man walk over and crouch beside him. "Why don't you take a bath? I can draw the water for you."

He smiled softly at the young boy. "I would much appreciate that. Why don't you put as much work into your paintings and lessons as you do in taking care of me and our appearance?"

Salai laughed, and Leonardo straightened at the sound.

"Because it requires too much time. And what little time I have left, I gamble."

"Which is when I am working."

Taunting. "Yes, maestro."

"Off with you, thief." He swatted lightly at the boy, who laughed.

"Perhaps I'll make your bath cold, just to spite you."

He shook his head tiredly and smiled at the boy's antics. After an hour or so, Salai came back into his room.

"You're bath is ready, maestro."

He groaned as he got up. He was getting too old. He kissed the boy's forehead as he walked past.

"Thank you, Salai."

He walked into the bathroom to find his bedclothes set out and the bath filled with bubbles and steaming hot. He smiled as he undressed himself and walked over to the edge, sticking one foot in and sighing in relief at the heat. As he slipped in, he could feel himself relax. Leonardo sunk down until his chin was in the sweet smelling soap, overtaking his senses and forcing all other thoughts out of his mind. The day's tensions slowly left his body: the irritation with the paints, the fight with Salai, the mounting worries about Ezio, it all faded away until he was just empty, and it felt wonderful.

He jumped when he heard something land on the small ledge just outside the bathroom window—the one he had put in for Ezio, so he wouldn't wake him when he came back in the middle of the night. He frowned at the water and suds he had spilled over the edge.

"Oh? Is this really what I see?"

He looked toward the window to see Ezio crouched on the open sill.

"E—Ezio! Pardon—"

"Do not worry, Leonardo. I see you have had a tough day?"

He sighed, again, and leaned back to look at Ezio easier. He was sitting on the ledge, his hood down and his hair untied, one leg up and the other dangling, teasing the rim of the tub with his boot as it swayed. The artist itched for some paper and charcoal to sketch him.

"Not as tough as yours, Ezio."

Ezio laughed, a low rumble reverberating from his chest. "I come bringing good news."

Leonardo raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

"Cesare Borgia is dead, and the apple is locked away safely."

The artist smiled warmly. "Ah, Ezio! That is wonder—"

He was cut off by the assassin as he moved from the sill and transferred all his weight onto the rim, holding onto the edge of the sill, kissing him. It was slow and chaste, and Leonardo couldn't help but smile when Ezio pulled away, still hanging like a monkey as he used a free hand to lightly trace Leonardo's jaw.

"This is my favorite part of coming home."

"W—what?"

He pulled back and leapt over the small tub, crouching on the other side and rolling up his sleeves to let his hands play with the top of the bubbles.

"Seeing your smile, it is my favorite part of coming home."

The assassin dipped one hand into the suds and brought it up over Leonardo's chest.

"That is, if you do not mind me staying."

"Of course! You can stay as long as you need to, until you need to return to your—"

"Leonardo, Cesare is dead. My mother and sister have moved on and moved forward. This portion of the Brotherhood needs me. I wish to stay forever."

Leonardo's jaw dropped in shock.

"I no longer need to return to anyone except for you."

Ezio had scooped up some of the bubbles in his hand and was slowly washing his arm. After he washed it off, he brought the artist's hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"I no longer wish to return to anyone except for you."

Leonardo's thoughts were racing: it was too well-timed, too unexpected, too perfect to be real. He must have fallen asleep in the tub. He didn't realize how lost in thought he was until he felt Ezio nudge his back to move him forward, and he felt the assassin slide in behind him.

"May I stay with you, Leonardo?" Ezio murmured into his ear as he slipped his arms around his waist.

Leonardo jolted back to reality and turned to look at him. "I… Uh…"

"If it is too much, I can leav—"

"N-no!" Leonardo shouted, louder than he had intended to, sloshing the water and the bubbles. "No, no, it just… earlier, Salai and I had an argument about how you are never around!"

He saw Ezio smirk and lean in for another kiss. It was the same as before, soft and chaste and everything Leonardo loved about him. He let Ezio draw him against his chest and place a kiss on his ear. He felt the bubbles squish between them.

"But now," he whispered, "I intend to be around forever to whip that boy into shape, so he doesn't get himself shot. Yes?"

"Of course, of course," Leonardo said, bring his arms up to run them through the bubbles again. "How could I have wished for anything else? You are staying for good. I am…"

Ezio gave a soft smile, barely a twitch of his lips. "Let me clean you, my love."

"I…" Leonardo was silent for several minutes. Finally, he smiled and kissed him. "Only if I can clean you."

Ezio chuckled as he drew some of the bubbles close and ran the soap up his chest and over his shoulders.

"You have already cleansed me, Leonardo."

Leonardo could only smile as they washed each other in the cooling water and sweet-smelling bubbles.