[A/N: and here we twist history! O_o I am so sorry. Also, save for the first segment, this chapter is pretty much gratuitous, so people who aren't a fan of that are duly warned.]

The Second World

Epilogue

I

Monteriggioni was slowly rising to prominence as a busy outpost alongside the trade routes, and it seemed small, but prosperous, its citizens carefree and friendly. No archers adorned the rooftops, no wanted posters were splashed across the walls, no heralds cried doom at the corners. Leonardo found himself faintly unsettled, as Ezio took him on a short tour around the town, eventually leading him up towards his uncle's villa.

They passed a circle of condotierri, training under the watchful eye of an instructor; the mercenaries and their instructor were clearly familiar with Ezio, greeting him with nods and waves. Mario Auditore's private army, Leonardo surmised, as he followed Ezio into the foyer of the stately villa. Artwork adorned the walls, many from artists he instantly recognized. He was absorbed in admiring one when Ezio, finally losing patience, grabbed his wrist and all but dragged him into a room.

Claudia Auditore glanced up from a desk, while to the side, a man before a miniature scale model of Monteriggioni bowed to Ezio.

"Could you leave us for a moment?" Ezio asked, and the man – possibly a servant – nodded, exiting the room, even as Claudia arched an eyebrow at her brother, then looked him over, curious and frank, her eyes lingering on his face.

"Are you going to introduce me, Ezio?" Claudia asked then, pleased.

"Leonardo da Vinci, my sister, Claudia. Claudia, Leonardo."

"Leonardo da Vinci!" Claudia said, in startled recognition. "Oh… Mother once bought some of your paintings. Ezio salvaged them from our house. They are very beautiful, the pride of our little collection."

"Grazie, Lady Claudia, you are very kind to say so. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And I you, sir," Claudia leant forward, her cheeks in her palms, her smile coquettish. "So my brother actually has handsome, charming friends."

Ezio rolled his eyes, even as Leonardo blushed. "Claudia, I am here to-"

"You owe me for all those times I had to introduce my friends to you, brother," Claudia retorted tartly. "Do you know how embarrassing it was to me when you broke their hearts?"

"Claudia, Leonardo is my-"

"What, is he too good for your sister?"

"No, I did not say that, but he is my-"

"And then? Dio mio, is it not bad enough that our uncle imprisons me here and forces me to work, but you also prevent me from meeting anyone new?"

"Claudia, I am-"

"And what? All of Italia knows that Leonardo da Vinci is not a married man."

"Will you listen-"

"No, you listen, brother! While you are always out gallivanting having fun, I am trapped in this tiny town which does not even have a decent tailor!"

"Look, I am just trying to say-"

"And do not think I never notice how you are so quick to return here when the chest of florins is almost full!"

Ezio growled, yanked Leonardo up against him, pulled his chin close and kissed him roughly on the lips, much to the artist's – and Claudia's – astonishment. When Ezio let go, with Leonardo bright red and staring down at his shoes, Claudia's mouth still open in a silent 'O' of shock, the assassin exhaled loudly.

"Understand?"

"I…" Claudia stared mutely between them for a moment. "Why did you not just tell me?"

"I was trying!"

"There is no need to shout," Claudia said primly, "You could just have told me and I would have said I was happy for you."

"Good! That is all I wanted to know!"

"I always felt you were in love with someone. You had that look," Claudia glared at her brother, "You could have told me earlier. You are my brother, Ezio, and I love you. I do not care who you love."

"Grazie, sister," Ezio said, a little mollified. "I was hoping you would understand. I need your help breaking it slowly to Mario."

"Why?"

"You would understand. You are my sister and we have been close since we were children. He would not understand."

"Well I do not know what he understands or does not understand seeing as he saw all of that while standing behind you," Claudia said tartly, her eyes darting above Ezio's shoulder.

Leonardo stared harder at his boots, even as Ezio's arm tightened around his waist. Perhaps if he stared hard enough, Leonardo felt, his cheeks burning, the ground would open and swallow him whole.

Arms crushed him against Ezio's frame, and Mario's voice boomed all too loudly next to his ear. "Nipote! You keep too many secrets to yourself that should be shared, with family!"

"Well, I-"

"Your uncle does not care who you love either," Mario declared, the bear hug becoming crushingly tighter. "And Leonardo is a good man. If a useless student."

"Grazie, kind sir," Leonardo managed to gasp, slowly unable to breathe, stunned at the willing acceptance of Ezio's family, gratified, and so relieved that his knees began to feel weak.

"Uncle, we-"

"And so, we should have a celebration!"

"No, I-"

"Claudia! Come over here. We are having a family hug."

"But we-"

Claudia stared at them for a long, silent moment, then shook her head slowly and turned back to her book.

II

"And this is why I do not come home so often," Ezio huffed, as he led Leonardo through a narrow corridor and up a ladder after managing to extricate them from Mario on the pretext of exploring the villa. "I love all of my family, even Mario, but they can be difficult."

"That is usually the definition of 'family'," Leonardo said wryly. He was not close to his own, but of late, he felt little regret. The room he pulled himself up into was a small loft, with a single skylight. Paintings on easels adorned the room, and there was a desk and a chair against a wall, haphazard scrolls and maps piled in another corner over a disused, narrow cot of a bed. Beside him, Ezio closed the trapdoor that led up into the loft, shutting out the chatter of sound that echoed up from within the villa, servants and condotierri and Mario's booming tones.

Leonardo peered at a painting, then another, and grimaced. They were portraits – of men Ezio had killed. He recognized the Pazzi, and some of the Barbarigo. "Did… did you paint these?"

"They are not very good," Ezio admitted, sliding his arms around Leonardo from behind, as though not noticing his aversion.

"You wanted to show me these?" Leonardo asked, a little weakly. Since the matter of the Duke of Gandia, the topic of Ezio's world had been a matter that they had skirted around, a wound best left scabbed and buried, or so Leonardo had thought.

And then they had shared… something, in Venezia, touched the forbidden, divine ecstasy between men, and Ezio had insisted that they journey to Monteriggioni. Leonardo had expected the… family revelation, but not this.

"You know who I am," Ezio replied quietly, as Leonardo scanned the portraits against the wall. There were only a few, and Pier Luigi's visage was prominently missing.

"There isn't…"

"I am not proud of any of these kills, but they were all necessary." Ezio pressed a kiss to the nape of Leonardo's neck. "The ones that are not… I do not paint." Another breath, the lips pressing lower, over his clothes, over his spine. "It gives me perspective. I think you are correct after all."

Awkwardly, Leonardo folded his hands over Ezio's arms, and gave voice to impulse. "After… after you deal with Rodrigo, what will you do?"

"Do?" Ezio asked, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Will you… will you always be an assassin?"

"Ah." Ezio chuckled, turning Leonardo gently around, to press his lips gently over Leonardo's, in a chaste kiss, his mouth curling into a grin. "Are you offering to have me as a kept man, Leonardo?"

"No, no, no," Leonardo flushed, even as Ezio laughed at his reaction. "I did not say that!"

"Pity, it was tempting," Ezio teased, the second kiss deeper now, his tongue flicking against Leonardo's teeth. "Lorenzo has suggested that I assume a consistent public persona when I am not on missions, one that he can introduce at Court, given that the Auditore are technically disgraced. He has made arrangements."

"At Court?"

"A persona that can accompany you to Court," Ezio amended, with a sly wink, hands sliding down to pull Leonardo's hips firmly against his, "That can keep an eye on you, particularly if you decide to move to Milan. Perhaps after Rodridgo, I can edge into semi-retirement, if Lorenzo no longer needs me."

"Really?" Leonardo asked, disbelieving. "You would do that?"

"What is it but yet another disguise?" Ezio shrugged, kneading until Leonardo gasped, hands tightening on the assassin's shoulder and rubbing tentatively against him. "A Lombard aristocrat, Lorenzo suggested. Your new apprentice."

"And this apprentice's name?" Leonardo murmured, nipping at Ezio's chin, planting soft kisses down the column of his neck, catching the leather thong of his necklace and tugging teasingly.

"Mm. It has not yet been decided. Lorenzo will tell me."

"And this is what Lombard aristocrats do to their mentors?" Leonardo asked dryly, as Ezio walked them back carefully, until the edge of the desk pressed against his rump.

"You mean," Ezio purred, "Ravishing them against a desk until they plead for mercy?" At Leonardo's startled groan, the assassin guided him up onto the desk, pulling his legs around his waist. "Perhaps only the handsome ones."

Ezio, Leonardo noted, was an apt student of pleasure. Deft fingers worked at his belts and the catches in his tunics, shucking his clothes with ease even as they kissed, Leonardo fumbling as he tried to do the same to Ezio's complex armor, then trembling and clutching at Ezio's collar instead as the assassin palmed him through his loincloth.

"My mother once said that I should find a creative outlet," Ezio grinned, as he tugged off one of Leonardo's boots, and then the other with his free hand, all the while stroking Leonardo boldly through the thin cloth until the artist was arching back and writhing against the desk.

"An… an outlet?" Leonardo shivered as the chill air picked goosebumps up his thigh, as his breeches fell to the ground over Ezio's boots.

"Besides vaginas, she said."

"This was very likely not what she meant," Leonardo said dryly, hissing as Ezio nipped at the underside of his thigh, just below the knee, then pressing a kiss over the reddening mark. "Ezio."

"There is salve in the drawer," Ezio instructed, obligingly beginning to remove his own armor, efficiently at first, then slowing to a teasing pace once the assassin noticed that Leonardo had fumbled his reach for the drawer and was watching, hungry, wanting. Once stripped to his breeches, Leonardo sat up to pull Ezio close, their tongues tangling, flesh to flesh as callused hands drew slow, circling caresses up his spine, their moans in urgent concert. Ezio, Leonardo realized dimly, with some surprise, pressed between his thighs, was already hard.

The assassin pressed closer, grinding against him, licking a wet slick to his jaw and whispering, "I want to take you."

"Are… are you sure?" Leonardo asked, nuzzling Ezio's hair, breathing deep, and trying not to hope. "You are still not used to… it will not be like bedding a woman."

"That much I can surmise," Ezio muttered, tentatively resting his hands on Leonardo's hips. "Instruct me. That should be easier."

"I…" Leonardo swallowed hard, even as lust made his member twitch in its confines. "Very well. On the condition that if at any point you want to stop, you must tell me."

"Stop worrying and get the salve, Leonardo," Ezio bent him down over the desk, marking his shoulder with stinging bites, then kissing over the marks when Leonardo moaned, strangled and breathless.

"I cannot concentrate," Leonardo protested, his fingers nerveless over Ezio's broad, scarred shoulders as the assassin pressed a similar path of bites and kisses down to a nipple, taking the nub of flesh between teeth and tongue and stroking, chuckling when Leonardo bucked insistently against his belly and whined. "Ezio."

"Do that again, Leonardo," Ezio purred, tugging at abused flesh playfully with his teeth. "Say my name like it is the only word you can remember."

"Ezio," Leonardo whispered, arching up into the assassin's mouth as lips curled around the other nipple. "Please."

"The drawer, Leonardo," Ezio smirked, stripping him of the loincloth with torturous care, and Leonardo blushed anew as the assassin took his swollen shaft in curious fingers, stroking along the vein, picking gently at the folds of skin under the reddened tip, whimpering as a callused thumb smeared the wet fluids leaking from the slit over the sensitive ridge.

"Uhh!" He bucked hopefully into Ezio's grasp, and the answering squeeze was too gentle to be anything but teasing.

"Sit up, Leonardo. Kiss me."

"I thought I was meant to instruct you," Leonardo pointed out, though he obeyed, opening his mouth eagerly to meet Ezio's, shuddering as the assassin began to stroke him, the friction both exquisite and uncomfortable, dry skin against skin, and then Ezio drew back, spat on his palm, and now Leonardo's hips jerked as he whined deep in his throat, an instrument under Ezio's clever fingers.

"You are still dressed," Leonardo complained, curling his thumbs into Ezio's breeches, as the assassin reached for the drawer himself. Ezio growled as Leonardo undid the laces and pulled the supple leather down over his hips, grinding forward as the artist tentatively pressed their flesh together, groaning at the heat, the musky scents, the wild hammer of Ezio's heart against his chest. Slick fingers drew a wet curl up Leonardo's shaft, making him hiss, then closed his hand urgently over their flesh, encouraging him to stroke them together even as teeth closed over his ear. Ezio's breathing hitched, shallow in his lust, as Leonardo drew his legs over the assassin's narrow waist.

"Now?" Ezio's voice was harsh, almost unrecognizable.

"One finger, inside," Leonardo struggled to keep the stroking slow, unhurried. "Slowly, please. It… has been a while."

Fingers traced slick, sloppy paths under his thighs, awkward, as Ezio pressed a finger against his entrance, taking his mouth as he pressed it in gently, inch by inch, stroking. When he crooked it, experimentally, Leonardo squirmed in Ezio's embrace, his groan stifled.

"Another," Leonardo breathed, forcing himself to relax as Ezio nuzzled his jaw, the stretch a faint burn as long fingers pressed deeper. "In and out. Spread… aah! Slowly, slowly."

"Scusa," Ezio kissed at the corner of his lips, apologetic, then pressed his forehead against Leonardo's, their breathing merging in stutters and gasps as Leonardo adjusted, resting his free hand behind him on the desk, tentatively rocking himself against the digits. "Now?"

"A third," Leonardo choked, rearing up to kiss Ezio roughly as the assassin drew his ring finger over the pucker of muscle, welcoming the burn, his hand shaking over their flesh, barely able to do more as Ezio began to thrust his long fingers in and out of his rump, the assassin chuckling whenever he whined, already wanting more, knowing that he had to wait.

Finally, Leonardo whispered, "Now."

To his surprise, Ezio did not immediately draw back. "You want to do this on the desk?"

"I do not think we can make it to the cot," Leonardo whispered, with a wry smile; he had read Ezio true, as the assassin but nodded and kissed him fiercely, with equal want, slipping from his grasp. The tip bumped against his stretched opening, and Leonardo dug his fingers into the edge of the desk as Ezio breached him, slow, achingly slow, the stretch burned despite the preparation. A hand was curled over his hip, the other around his back, his eyes stinging from the pain as Ezio buried himself to the hilt.

"Leonardo," Ezio said, concerned, but Leonardo locked his ankles tight over the assassin's lower back, holding him close, stroking his cheek as he blindly drew him close, a kiss, a gasp, and Ezio whispered, his name again, almost inaudible.

"Ezio," Leonardo echoed; his world spun, disoriented in his joy as they kissed again, deeper, desperate, drowning against each other. The hand at his hip crept to his neglected flesh, coaxing it back to ardor, and Leonardo, moaning, arms wrapped over Ezio's shoulders, gasped, "Now."

They rocked together against the desk, unhurried, Leonardo's fingers occupied in tracing and retracing memorized scars, skimming his thumbs over the ridges of old wounds, so drunk in Ezio's body that he barely heard the question.

"Does this get better for you?"

"Better?"

"I… ah, I asked Teodora. And Paola," Ezio ducked his head, actually embarrassed. "They said it should get better, but they would not elaborate."

Leonardo wasn't sure whether to feel amused or horrified. "You asked Teodora and Paola?"

"Well," Ezio said defensively, "I thought they would know. Teodora did say it was 'the angle'. I am not entirely certain… that I understood her meaning."

The assassin sounded so serious that Leonardo stifled a laugh, breathless. "This… this is more than I would have hoped for already, Ezio."

"I want to give you more," Ezio retorted stubbornly, twisting against him to flick his tongue against Leonardo's ear, then freezing as the artist shivered and cried out. "Leonardo?"

"That," Leonardo gasped, digging his nails into Ezio's shoulders. "A…again, that."

Ezio frowned at him, and then, as realization dawned, he smiled slowly, almost predatory as he bent Leonardo down over the desk. The assassin's next thrust up into him made Leonardo buck, keening and clawing at Ezio's back; he recalled little after, cast asunder by pleasure and bucking helplessly against Ezio's pace, and then, too soon, he was shattering in Ezio's grasp, violently unraveling with a strangled shout. Ezio growled in answer, liquid and primal, his back arching as he snapped his hips against Leonardo's, grinding his own ecstasy deep.

III

They lay against the rail of the balcony overlooking Monteriggioni, Leonardo's back against Ezio's chest, settled between the assassin's long legs and tucked under his chin, his hands resting on Ezio's thighs. Leonardo's eyes were half-lidded, drowsy and content in the afternoon sun.

"That time, after Ancona," Ezio said, just as Leonardo began to doze, "Rosa and Antonio took me aside."

Leonardo was too content for his instinct for verbal landmines to sound the alarm, honed from close association to Ezio. The sun was comfortably warm, and he ached pleasantly, loose-limbed and sated. "Mm."

"They told me about your concerns." Ezio had taken Leonardo's left hand, turning it upwards, tracing upon it with his right forefinger. "For someone so intelligent you can be so blind."

Leonardo's brain dug itself reluctantly out of its doze. "What?"

"I have loved you for a long time as well, Leonardo. It just never quite… registered, not in those words." Ezio murmured against his ear. "But it was always there, even before their prank with the 'antidote'. Even had that not happened, I think this would have been inevitable. So you need not be concerned, so much that you would put yourself at any sort of risk. You do not need to be involved in my world. I have always loved you as you were, as you are now."

"Ah," Leonardo managed, torn between exasperation at yet another devious scheme from the thieves and a warm sense of gratification at Ezio's words. After a brief struggle, the latter won out, and Leonardo smiled to himself, his eyes straying down to their hands, finally recognising the pattern drawn over his palms.

Turning in Ezio's lap, Leonardo leant up to slant his lips over the assassin's mouth, in their shared breath the reiteration of the words of love written on his skin, echoed in the corners of his soul.

[finished – Second World. ;3 Thanks everyone for reading! RE: FFNet readers, if I do update any more Ezio x Leonardo stories, it will still be to this story for ease of updating.

Scene in III inspired from doubleleaf's gorgeous art on DA.

Thanks again for all the feedback and the help with languages. ;3]