A/N: I guess I have some explaining to do, huh? Well, my computer died a triumphant and horrible death, and I gave up trying to fix it so it's been the computer store's problem until I got it back just a few days ago. Microsoft Word refused to work for about a month, and now that I have it back I'm typing like crazy. So never buy a Dell, and Windows is for shit. That's what I've learned out of this experience. But anyway, I'm seriously just... amazed at all the feedback I've gotten from my last story! (Even fanart! That's amazing!) I cannot thank you enough, you guys boost my confidence as a writer so much. Thank you all, and I'm sorry for not writing anything for... over a month. Wow. I am so sorry. Also, angst is new to me... sorry if it fails. I swear I'll get something of better quality out to you guys soon. Sorry for giving you just a bunch of crap lately... Gah! I'm just sorry.

DISCLAIMER: Ubiosft owns Assassin's Creed

Leonardo turned on his side, his nose brushing against Ezio's in the process. Noting with a blush how close they were, he lifted the sheet farther up his chest in a gesture of practiced modesty. Ezio smirked a bit at this, but his expression quickly changed into a guilty frown.

And then without warning he was on top of Leonardo, all attempted modesty thrown aside as he connected their lips in a fierce kiss.

Shaking off the surprise Leonardo moaned, wrapping his arms around Ezio's neck and pulling him closer. The assassin obliged, laying his body almost flat on the artist's. His hands traveled everywhere all at once, first on Leonardo's shoulders, then his neck, his chest and collarbone, and finally resting on his cheek, tilting it upwards for better purchase.

It was an attempt to get as close as possible; for Ezio to memorise Leonardo in every possible way. The shape of his mouth, the way his delicate neck and shoulders felt beneath his hands, his thin, calloused fingers… Ezio wanted, needed to remember them all.

Air soon made them separate but Ezio stayed close, his nose brushing against Leonardo's still.

"Ezio…" The artist tried, but found no words to say. His hands cupped the assassin's cheek, brushing his fingers along the stubble there, the rough hairs massaging the pad of his thumb. Ezio leaned into the touch, his amber eyes closing for a brief moment in bliss.

But then he remembered Borgia, his father and brother, and his eyes snapped open.

Ezio sighed, his breath ruffling the long strands of Leonardo's hair. "I leave for Roma tomorrow," he said into the other man's cheek, the words coming out slow and steady, like he was deeming them not to shake as they left his mouth.

Leonardo frowned. Normally, Ezio would say he was leaving the morning of, always with a cocky smile and a conceited remark as he responded to Leonardo's fussings. But now…

Ezio was nervous. Nervous enough to want to spend this night with him, to try and forget in a tangle of sheets and sweet nothings. Leonardo bit his bottom lip as he felt the assassin collapse on top of him, his face going into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Ezio breathed in deeply, the smell of paint and sawdust and leather and everything that was Leonardo invading his senses and making the tension leave his body like a finely aged glass of wine would have. His arm gripped Leonardo's waist, holding him close and secure against him.

Leonardo carded his fingers in Ezio's silky locks of long hair, bringing them up and twisting them between his fingers.

He thought about what to say. What could you say in a moment like this? Someone who had always been so strong, so resolute in his own abilities… becoming almost fearful at the mission that was to come?

"Carnivale is coming up soon…" Leonardo stated, wincing at his own pathetic attempt at comfort. He had no idea how to handle this. Genius or not, Ezio was a complicated person, who, up until now, had resisted all forms of comfort or solace. Ezio was already hurting; Leonardo didn't want to further his pain by wounding his pride.

"We'll have to go when you return…" he added, avoiding using the word if, despite the fact that it hung dark and ominous in his mind. "You've never been to a proper carnivale, have you?"

Ezio chuckled, his rumbling making Leonardo's neck tickle. "No," he said, "I've always been away, and the one time I was able to attend doesn't count."

This time Leonardo laughed, remembering his lover's frustration as he threw himself off rooftops multiple times chasing guards and completing obstacle courses. "Well, I doubt anyone can enjoy acting like some sort of drunken idiota and then have nothing come of it."

Ezio smiled, his lips curling up against Leonardo's neck. He lifted his head, dark bangs coming down over his face that the other man quickly pushed behind his ear to see him better.

Leonardo frowned then, letting his fingers brush against Ezio's face and cup his cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but closed it and looked away, biting his lip.

What was he going to say? "Don't go?" "Don't leave me?" He couldn't tell those to Ezio. It hurt Leonardo tremendously, but he knew that the revenge so deeply seated in the assassin's heart would never waive until he had completed what he set out to do. It would always come first, always be the thing that came between them. Ezio wanted it gone, so did Leonardo. Just… not like this. Never like this.

But that's what Ezio was, wasn't it? An assassin. He had joined the Creed, essentially donating his life to the art of killing to achieve a higher purpose. It was selfish of Leonardo to want him to be anything other than what he was, but that didn't stop the cold bed and the lonely nights.

He pulled Ezio down into a kiss, surprising the other man with the sudden urgency he was displaying. Leonardo needed this as much as the other did, because truly, this may be the last time.

But as soon as it had started Leonardo pulled away, bringing the assassin up and boring his blue eyes into his brown ones.

"I love you," he said, his voice sure and even, wanting to make sure Ezio knew at least this much before he left.

Ezio's eyes widened a bit and he stiffened, but soon relaxed, moving his lips to brush against the other man's palm.

"Ti amo, Leonardo," he whispered against the calloused skin, and Leonardo felt it more than he heard it.

---

When Leonardo woke up, Ezio wasn't there. Sunlight was pouring into the room so the artist could see the imprint the assassin left on his bed, the way the sheets were cast aside so as to prove that someone had been there, that it hadn't all been a dream.

He smiled sadly to himself and stood up, trying to ignore the tightening of his chest and the ache in his heart.

Review?