AC2 Fic: Arrow
First non-meme fic for ages, and it's complete silliness. Oh well.
Title:Arrow
Characters:Ezio/Leonardo
Summary:Ezio has an injury in a rather unusual place. Leonardo helps, though he can't help laughing while he's at it.
“Tell me again how this happened, Ezio?”
Leonardo sounded amused. That wasn’t right, Ezio thought mulishly. He certainly wouldn’t be amused if he was the one in this position - pants around his ankles, bare arse sticking in the air and, worst of all, absolutely zero chance of this leading to anything fun. No, this definitely was not amusing.
“A guard.”
“Oh, really? I thought Rosa did it.”
Sarcasm was never a good sign. Not when you were waiting for first aid. Sarcasm meant Leonardo was entirely too amused. So far as Ezio was concerned, anyone who could laugh at him when he was in pain was downright cruel. Whatever happened to saving animals and giving Ezio a kiss whenever he got even a tiny scratch? He missed those kisses.
“Dio, Leonardo! Just take it out.”
“I have to do this carefully, caro,” Leonardo replied, and this time there was some genuine concern in his voice. “Otherwise some may be left behind, and I do not think you would want an infection there.”
Even though what Ezio muttered was far too quiet to be heard, Leonardo was able to guess at the meaning. He chuckled fondly, uncorking a jar of some terrible smelling oil.
“So, a guard did this...?”
“I was looting a chest,” Ezio grumbled, attempting to ignore the sting as the oil was applied.
“Ah. So that’s why you were bent over. I did wonder, you know.”
“Si, si,” Ezio grumbled, squirming slightly. Without any warning, there was a sudden searing pain. Ezio swore, black spots dancing across his vision. Soft words were murmured into his ear, vain attempts to reassure him that everything was all right. An uncertain amount of time later, he found himself curled up in Leonardo’s bed, using the artist’s chest for a pillow.
“You’ll be out of commission for two weeks. And you’ll have a scar, I’m afraid,” Leonardo smiled, running his hands through thick brown hair. He chuckled quietly at Ezio’s groan. “Don’t worry, caro. At least no one else will ever see it.”
“Not that,” Ezio grumbled. “What am I going to tell the others?”
“The truth?” Leonardo suggested optimistically, though the slight curl of his lips said he was only teasing.
“I am not telling them the truth, Leonardo. And neither are you.”
“Sì, sì,” Leonardo teased, stealing an affectionate kiss. “Though there’s no shame, you know. I’m sure plenty of people have been shot in the arse.”
Title:Arrow
Characters:Ezio/Leonardo
Summary:Ezio has an injury in a rather unusual place. Leonardo helps, though he can't help laughing while he's at it.
“Tell me again how this happened, Ezio?”
Leonardo sounded amused. That wasn’t right, Ezio thought mulishly. He certainly wouldn’t be amused if he was the one in this position - pants around his ankles, bare arse sticking in the air and, worst of all, absolutely zero chance of this leading to anything fun. No, this definitely was not amusing.
“A guard.”
“Oh, really? I thought Rosa did it.”
Sarcasm was never a good sign. Not when you were waiting for first aid. Sarcasm meant Leonardo was entirely too amused. So far as Ezio was concerned, anyone who could laugh at him when he was in pain was downright cruel. Whatever happened to saving animals and giving Ezio a kiss whenever he got even a tiny scratch? He missed those kisses.
“Dio, Leonardo! Just take it out.”
“I have to do this carefully, caro,” Leonardo replied, and this time there was some genuine concern in his voice. “Otherwise some may be left behind, and I do not think you would want an infection there.”
Even though what Ezio muttered was far too quiet to be heard, Leonardo was able to guess at the meaning. He chuckled fondly, uncorking a jar of some terrible smelling oil.
“So, a guard did this...?”
“I was looting a chest,” Ezio grumbled, attempting to ignore the sting as the oil was applied.
“Ah. So that’s why you were bent over. I did wonder, you know.”
“Si, si,” Ezio grumbled, squirming slightly. Without any warning, there was a sudden searing pain. Ezio swore, black spots dancing across his vision. Soft words were murmured into his ear, vain attempts to reassure him that everything was all right. An uncertain amount of time later, he found himself curled up in Leonardo’s bed, using the artist’s chest for a pillow.
“You’ll be out of commission for two weeks. And you’ll have a scar, I’m afraid,” Leonardo smiled, running his hands through thick brown hair. He chuckled quietly at Ezio’s groan. “Don’t worry, caro. At least no one else will ever see it.”
“Not that,” Ezio grumbled. “What am I going to tell the others?”
“The truth?” Leonardo suggested optimistically, though the slight curl of his lips said he was only teasing.
“I am not telling them the truth, Leonardo. And neither are you.”
“Sì, sì,” Leonardo teased, stealing an affectionate kiss. “Though there’s no shame, you know. I’m sure plenty of people have been shot in the arse.”