AC2 Fic: Celibate
I should point out that yumearashi inadvertently gave me the idea
Title: Celibate
Characters: Ezio/Leonardo
Summary: While visiting Teodora's, Ezio hears several of the girls gossiping about him - in particular, how he hasn't purchased any services recently.
“Maybe he’s lost it.”
The remark was immediately followed by a chorus of giggles. Normally, Ezio had better things to do than eavesdrop on whores, but Teodora had disappeared nearly fifteen minutes ago to speak with a ‘special client’ and still hadn’t returned. So really, Ezio argued, it wasn’t really his fault. If she’d wanted him to sit and behave, she should have left a book or something (not that it would have worked: Ezio found most books excruciatingly dull).
“Maybe one of the guards cut it off,” a second female voice said. There were several more giggles, and then another girl suggested:
“Maybe he cut it off, by accident. With that blade of his.”
Curious now, Ezio stood and crept over to the door which concealed the courtesans from view. It sounded as though they were talking about someone with a distinctive blade, and as far as distinctive blades went, his was pretty impressive. Pressing his ear against the door, he waited for the giggling to die down and conversation to begin again.
“You’re all wrong,” someone said, and Ezio suddenly felt indignant. What was Teodora doing out there, gossiping, when she was supposed to be in here? So much for speaking with a ‘special client’. He could imagine what it would look like in there: Teodora would have the most comfortable chair. The rest of the women would have dragged chairs and gaudy cushions into a rough circle so they could talk. Some of them would be leaning forward every now and then so they could hear better, or to share an extra-juicy piece of gossip. “He’s still got it,” Teodora continued. “He wouldn’t be swaggering about if he didn’t.”
“Is it still working?” one of the girls asked curiously. Ezio thought it was the one who’d first suggested ‘he’ had lost ‘it’ - whatever ‘he’ and ‘it’ were. He thought he had a fair idea on both of those matters, but he was rather too arrogant to admit it. After all, why on earth would they think he’d lost his...
“There are injuries that could do that. Or it could be a disease,” someone else agreed. Ezio scowled. He was not diseased.
“He’s certainly slept with enough people to have a disease,” one girl giggled, and Ezio flicked his blade out compulsively. It was a bad habit of his: it didn’t actually mean he was going to kill, only that something (or someone) had put him in a terrible mood.
“Vita!” Teodora admonished as Ezio grumbled something about how he was perfectly healthy and in quite excellent condition. “Ezio is a friend in this house. You should not talk about him like that.”
“But it’s true,” Vita whined, and Ezio growled. He was very close to bursting in there and defending his honour when the realised there was another voice laughing - a male voice. He knew that voice, he realised. He knew it! Leonardo. What on earth was he doing here? Now that Ezio listened closely, he noticed something sad in the laughter: a sort of quiet resignation. Something in his chest squeezed uncomfortably. Did his Leonardo really think so little of him?
“Enough, child,” Teodora said, gently but firmly. “I did not ask you for opinions. I asked you: have any of you serviced Ezio in the past month?”
There was silence, and Ezio sincerely hoped they were all shaking their pretty little heads as fast as they could. Not once in the past month had he sought gratification from any of Teodora’s girls, or indeed any women at all. He supposed they couldn’t blame him for gossiping after how frequent a customer he had been in the past, but he couldn’t help but feel a little indignant. Anyone would think he was just a piece of meat. The silence stretched on, and once again Ezio had to resist the urge to burst in there and proclaim his innocence.
“He told the truth.” Leonardo’s voice was small, almost as though he didn’t quite believe it. “He didn’t sleep with anyone. He... oh, Ezio.”
Strange: Leonardo’s voice sounded almost as pained as Ezio felt. He sounded completely lost. Broken. Despite the circumstances, Ezio still wanted to walk in there and hold him close. There was the sound of several chairs scraping and a door creaking ever so slightly as it opened, accompanied by a series of footsteps. The courtesans were leaving then. Teodora was still in there, though: someone shut the door behind the women and walked back towards the centre of the room. She’d probably have one hand placed comfortingly on Leonardo’s shoulder. He didn’t even want to think about the expression on Leonardo’s face, or the pain that was sure to be in those clear blue eyes.
“I didn’t believe him.” Leonardo’s voice was still quiet, hurt. Ezio knew why. He’d been absolutely heartbroken when Leonardo had gently assured him that he understood, that it he wouldn’t complain if Ezio continued to sleep around. No amount of promises could convince Leonardo that he wouldn’t.
“He promised me he wouldn’t, but I didn’t believe him.”
That was enough. There was too much hurt in those words for Ezio to listen in any longer. Straightening, he gently pushed the door open. Leonardo had his back to him, but Teodora saw him and nodded before leaving the room. Leonardo barely noticed. As silently as possible, Ezio moved up behind him and wrapped his arms around Leonardo from behind.
“I forgive you, caro mio. I forgive you.”
Title: Celibate
Characters: Ezio/Leonardo
Summary: While visiting Teodora's, Ezio hears several of the girls gossiping about him - in particular, how he hasn't purchased any services recently.
“Maybe he’s lost it.”
The remark was immediately followed by a chorus of giggles. Normally, Ezio had better things to do than eavesdrop on whores, but Teodora had disappeared nearly fifteen minutes ago to speak with a ‘special client’ and still hadn’t returned. So really, Ezio argued, it wasn’t really his fault. If she’d wanted him to sit and behave, she should have left a book or something (not that it would have worked: Ezio found most books excruciatingly dull).
“Maybe one of the guards cut it off,” a second female voice said. There were several more giggles, and then another girl suggested:
“Maybe he cut it off, by accident. With that blade of his.”
Curious now, Ezio stood and crept over to the door which concealed the courtesans from view. It sounded as though they were talking about someone with a distinctive blade, and as far as distinctive blades went, his was pretty impressive. Pressing his ear against the door, he waited for the giggling to die down and conversation to begin again.
“You’re all wrong,” someone said, and Ezio suddenly felt indignant. What was Teodora doing out there, gossiping, when she was supposed to be in here? So much for speaking with a ‘special client’. He could imagine what it would look like in there: Teodora would have the most comfortable chair. The rest of the women would have dragged chairs and gaudy cushions into a rough circle so they could talk. Some of them would be leaning forward every now and then so they could hear better, or to share an extra-juicy piece of gossip. “He’s still got it,” Teodora continued. “He wouldn’t be swaggering about if he didn’t.”
“Is it still working?” one of the girls asked curiously. Ezio thought it was the one who’d first suggested ‘he’ had lost ‘it’ - whatever ‘he’ and ‘it’ were. He thought he had a fair idea on both of those matters, but he was rather too arrogant to admit it. After all, why on earth would they think he’d lost his...
“There are injuries that could do that. Or it could be a disease,” someone else agreed. Ezio scowled. He was not diseased.
“He’s certainly slept with enough people to have a disease,” one girl giggled, and Ezio flicked his blade out compulsively. It was a bad habit of his: it didn’t actually mean he was going to kill, only that something (or someone) had put him in a terrible mood.
“Vita!” Teodora admonished as Ezio grumbled something about how he was perfectly healthy and in quite excellent condition. “Ezio is a friend in this house. You should not talk about him like that.”
“But it’s true,” Vita whined, and Ezio growled. He was very close to bursting in there and defending his honour when the realised there was another voice laughing - a male voice. He knew that voice, he realised. He knew it! Leonardo. What on earth was he doing here? Now that Ezio listened closely, he noticed something sad in the laughter: a sort of quiet resignation. Something in his chest squeezed uncomfortably. Did his Leonardo really think so little of him?
“Enough, child,” Teodora said, gently but firmly. “I did not ask you for opinions. I asked you: have any of you serviced Ezio in the past month?”
There was silence, and Ezio sincerely hoped they were all shaking their pretty little heads as fast as they could. Not once in the past month had he sought gratification from any of Teodora’s girls, or indeed any women at all. He supposed they couldn’t blame him for gossiping after how frequent a customer he had been in the past, but he couldn’t help but feel a little indignant. Anyone would think he was just a piece of meat. The silence stretched on, and once again Ezio had to resist the urge to burst in there and proclaim his innocence.
“He told the truth.” Leonardo’s voice was small, almost as though he didn’t quite believe it. “He didn’t sleep with anyone. He... oh, Ezio.”
Strange: Leonardo’s voice sounded almost as pained as Ezio felt. He sounded completely lost. Broken. Despite the circumstances, Ezio still wanted to walk in there and hold him close. There was the sound of several chairs scraping and a door creaking ever so slightly as it opened, accompanied by a series of footsteps. The courtesans were leaving then. Teodora was still in there, though: someone shut the door behind the women and walked back towards the centre of the room. She’d probably have one hand placed comfortingly on Leonardo’s shoulder. He didn’t even want to think about the expression on Leonardo’s face, or the pain that was sure to be in those clear blue eyes.
“I didn’t believe him.” Leonardo’s voice was still quiet, hurt. Ezio knew why. He’d been absolutely heartbroken when Leonardo had gently assured him that he understood, that it he wouldn’t complain if Ezio continued to sleep around. No amount of promises could convince Leonardo that he wouldn’t.
“He promised me he wouldn’t, but I didn’t believe him.”
That was enough. There was too much hurt in those words for Ezio to listen in any longer. Straightening, he gently pushed the door open. Leonardo had his back to him, but Teodora saw him and nodded before leaving the room. Leonardo barely noticed. As silently as possible, Ezio moved up behind him and wrapped his arms around Leonardo from behind.
“I forgive you, caro mio. I forgive you.”