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Although keeping it a secret seemed to him a crime, Salaì did his best when it came to staying quiet about his relationship with Leonardo. The man was beautiful, even in his older age, with his hair still a gentle gold, even if streaks of white were joining in. White gold, Salaì thought, nothing more; it only added to Leonardo's beauty.
People knew about their relations, he was sure people knew. Leonardo’s preference for bed mates were, for all stakes and purposes, known by some. But he was careful to never be caught, and so Salaì did his best to copy that, for his lover’s sake and his own.
But the windows were closed and covered, the doors locked and barred, and Salaì approached Leonardo. He wasn’t being particularly quiet; indeed, he was complaining about being neglected. It wasn’t that Leonardo was ignoring him on purpose. Rather, Leonardo was so invested in his current work that he paid little to no attention to anything else. Salaì was sure Leonardo hadn’t heard a word he had said. Salaì finally sighed, hands on his hips and tapping his foot on the ground.
“Maestro.” No reply. “Leonardo,” he sang.
“Hm?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Hm?” Leonardo didn’t take his eyes off his work and Salaì pouted, crossing his arms.
“I said it’s getting late. Would you like to go to bed?”
“I’ll be there in a minute...”
Unlikely, Salaì thought, and rolled his eyes. “Va bene. I’ll wait up for you.”
“No need.”
Salaì rolled his eyes again and sat at a table, frowning at Leonardo’s back. While he was for once working on a commission, the sitter for this particular portrait wasn’t here. Salaì tapped his foot. “What are you even working on? She isn’t even here!”
“The background.”
Salaì groaned and rolled his eyes again. He turned away to close the blinds and lock the door before undressing, leaving his clothes in a pile on the table. He approached Leonardo again from behind.
“Don't you want to join me? In bed?” He asked, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist, one hand inching downward. As predicted, Leonardo stiffened, his brush pausing as his attention was finally broken.
“...Ah.” Leonardo put his brush and palette down, placed the cover on his paints and turned, looking Salaì up and down. “What time is it?”
“Late.” Salaì repeated, still wrapped around Leonardo and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come to bed, hmm? And wipe that paint off your face.”
Leonardo nodded and Salaì smiled, leading him up the stairs to their chamber. The Borgias had been generous with what they had given Leonardo—and by extension Salaì— and the lovers fell onto their soft bed, embracing and kissing. Salaì nimbly undid Leonardo’s trousers when his hands were caught. He looked up at Leonardo and saw that his eyes were dark and filled with want.
“I would like nothing more,” Leonardo whispered, “than to tie your devilish hands, and take you myself.” Salaì shivered with excitement at this, but before his mind could wander, Leonardo continued, “But anyone could walk in. And of course, you would need to be able to escape quickly if that were to happen, si? Therefore...”
Leonardo had Salaì’s wrists in his hands and moved them to the headboard. “You keep them here,” he said. “And if you move them, I will remove myself from you, and we will start over when you are calm.”
Salaì’s eyes widened, and he found himself nodding, hands gripping at the headboard. This, he thought, was going to be torturous and wonderful. Leonardo smiled and kissed him, his hands moving up and down Salaì’s body, making him squirm. He didn’t dare move his hands from their position, and Leonardo’s mouth moved to his throat and collar, hands moving over and gripping his ass and thighs, and Salaì moaned, half hoping he would be bruised.
Lower, Leonardo stroked the inside of his thigh, mouth on his belly and hips. Salaì squirmed again, legs wrapping around Leonardo, who laughed. “Patience, caro mio.”
“I’m no good at that!”
“Then I intend to teach you.” He gripped his ass again, and Salaì groaned.
“Just get on with it! You want to just as much as I do!” He waved a hand to Leonardo’s erection to emphasize his point, but Leonardo leaned over and snatched his wrist, pressing it back into place and catching Salaì’s gaze.
“I said don’t move,” he said quietly. Salaì swallowed and Leonardo, to Salaì’s displeasure, got up. “I'll be back,” he said. He grabbed a robe and went downstairs, leaving the door open behind him.
“Leonardo! Fucking hell, Leonardo! Come on, it’s just a hand!”
There was no reply and Salaì huffed. It didn’t take long for him to get bored, and he wondered if touching himself would relieve him. Leonardo probably wouldn’t like it, but then, he’d left Salaì all by his lonesome...
Leonardo returned before long, smiling at Salaì and getting back on the bed. “Still in place, I see? Good boy.”
“I am not a dog!” Salaì snapped indignantly.
Leonardo only laughed at him, pressing kisses to his collarbone, sucking just where he knew it wouldn’t show later. Salaì tilted his head back and groaned again when Leonardo gently pried his legs off. He looked up and watched as Leonardo undressed. Salaì smiled; Leonardo looked flushed, and he was certainly aroused.
Leonardo got up and found the bottle of oil they kept for these occasions, dipping his index finger before placing the bottle on the bedside and settling back between Salaì’s legs. Salaì all but pushed against the finger when it went to his ass and whimpered when Leonardo pulled it away again.
“Stop teasing,” Salaì gasped out, and Leonardo grinned before continuing to tease. Salaì gripped the headboard to stop himself from moving, especially when Leonardo pressed his tongue to Salaì’s cock, licking a strip up it. Salaì cried out and whimpered again when Leonardo decided to suck just on the head of his cock. He inserted his finger into Salaì at last, then another when Salaì begged him.
Leonardo released Salaì’s cock to whisper into his ear, “Greedy.” But it sounded amused, and a kiss was pressed to Salaì’s jaw before Leonardo returned his mouth to Salaì’s cock.
Salaì squirmed and twisted under Leonardo, trying to gain more relief until Leonardo pulled his fingers out and reached for the oil again, coating his fingers liberally to prepare himself. When he had finished, he pushed himself into Salaì slowly. When he was fully inside, he slowly pulled himself almost back out, then back in again.
“Leo... Leonardo... I’m used to this you know,” Salaì managed to get out. “You... don’t have to go so slowly.”
Leonardo hummed. “I know.” He grasped Salaì’s cock in an oil-slicked hand, stroking it in time with his thrusts and slowly driving Salaì insane.
Then, Salaì moved his hand, just to the top of the headboard, but it was apparently enough. Leonardo stopped and removed himself from Salaì and sat back, stroking himself almost casually. When Salaì lifted his head in hazy confusion, Leonardo only said, “Hands, caro mio.”
Salaì groaned and flopped his head back against the pillows, curls flying. “Leonardo,” he whined. “Maestro-”
Leonardo only laughed a little and got up off the bed. He wiped excess oil off his hands and instead went over to the chair by the table at the other end of the room. He lit a candle there and picked up a book, sitting down.
“What are you hoping to do?” Salaì said. “I can still see you, I know you’re still not satisfied.”
Leonardo didn’t reply, instead flipping the page. “Stronzo.” Salaì said and Leonardo smiled, but kept his gaze on his book. He flipped another page and Salaì groaned. “This isn’t fun,” he said.
“You can go to sleep anytime,” Leonardo said. He kept his eyes on his book. Salai squirmed a little but found no relief.
“You’re not having fun either!” Salaì called. “You're not even reading, your eyes aren’t moving! I may not know how to read, but I know you move your eyes across the page!”
Leonardo smirked, flipped a page, and started to casually stroke himself. Leonardo glanced at him then, looking amused, and flipped another page. Salaì made a noise of frustration but kept his hands where they were. He closed his eyes and dozed for a bit until he heard the creaking of the floorboards. He kept his eyes closed, but soon felt Leonardo climb back on the bed.
They started again from the very beginning, Leonardo kissing him and sucking his way down to his cock again. It had settled down after some time but leaped back up now that Leonardo was back. Judging by Leonardo's soft laughter, he was amused by this. Salai gripped the headboard, determined this time as Leonardo prepared him. He moved just as slowly as before, and Salai wished he would hurry up.
Salaì had started crying by the time he moved his hands again, and Leonardo removing himself did nothing to stop this. He begged Leonardo to come back and continue, but again Leonardo waited until he had fully calmed down.
They started over. And over. And over. Salaì was growing exhausted, and his face was wet with sweat and tears. and he could tell Leonardo was in no better condition. He finally begged, “Maestro, please, bind my hands, or let me touch you, please, please, please-”
“Shh.” Leonardo pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “If you insist, I will. Give me a moment.”
Leonardo left him again, but swiftly returned with a silk scarf. He tied it around Salaì's wrists and then up to the headboard. Leonardo then kissed him again and they started over for the last time, Salaì wrapping his legs around Leonardo to trap him there.
Slow, sweet, Leonardo made love to him, touching him and being as gentle as possible. Too gentle, Salaì wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through Leonardo's sweat-drenched hair. Leonardo trailed his fingers over Salaì's cock, stroking gently with his thrusts until Salaì finally came, still sobbing, but trying to stay as quiet as possible. Leonardo came shortly after, and he pulled Salaì closer, pressing his nose to Salaì’s bruise-covered collar.
After Leonardo came, he didn’t collapse on top of Salaì so much as they both rolled to the side. Leonardo pulled the silk scarf off from around Salaì’s wrists with ease before somehow pulling him closer. Salaì sighed and moved impossibly closer, lowering his hands and placing one against Leonardo’s hip. He kissed Leonardo’s cheeks and chest; anywhere he could reach without moving much.
There would be time to clean up later, to pretend none of this had happened. But for now, they rested easy in one another’s arms, and fell asleep.
Salaì was sore the next morning, but it was a good sort of sore. He was also very warm, and Leonardo was still sleeping. While it wasn’t rare to see Leonardo sleeping—the man had practically no set sleeping schedule—Salaì never tired of gazing at Leonardo. There were fine lines on his face that were softer and more relaxed in sleep. His gold and silver hair was tangled. He was beautiful.
Salaì got up, stretching his arms and back and neck. His arms hurt, he was more displeased to find. He got up anyway to wash himself of sweat and sex. Leonardo started to stir, rolling over and opening his eyes a little to blink sleepily at Salaì.
“Good morning, Maestro,” Salaì said with a teasing smile. “Like what you see, hmm?”
Leonardo hummed and nodded before closing his eyes again and burying his face into Salaì's pillow. “Gian,” he mumbled.
“Who? I am Salaì. I don’t know this ‘Gian’ you speak of.”
Leonardo smiled and opened his eyes again. “Indeed. My little devil. You’re beautiful this morning.”
Salaì stood upright and pressed a hand to his breast. “Just this morning?” He asked, almost offended if not for Leonardo’s amused look. “Excuse you, am beautiful all the time.”
Leonardo’s smile only became bigger and he propped himself up on his elbows. He yawned and rubbed his eyes before sitting up. “You are. It’s true,” Leonardo said. “But you don’t need the boost to your ego.”
“Hmph.” Salaì grabbed a towel to dry himself off and combed his unruly hair, ignoring Leonardo. Leonardo sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and watched as Salaì dressed.
“Salaì?” He said.
“Yes?” Salaì was looking for his hose, and when Leonardo didn't reply he sighed in annoyance and turned. “What?” He said, hands on his hips. Leonardo smiled a little and beckoned him, and Salaì rolled his eyes before walking over. “Can I help you?”
Leonardo pulled Salaì between his legs and hugged him around the middle, pressing his face to Salaì's chest. “Ti amo molto,” he murmured.
This wasn’t the first time Leonardo had told Salaì he loved him, but it still made his heart jump. Salaì smiled and pushed his fingers through Leonardo's hair, smoothing it back and pressing his cheek to the top of his lover’s head. “Ti amo anch’io, Leonardo,” he replied. They kept their voices soft for fear of being heard, even through the locked and shuttered windows. but Leonardo pulled Salaì into his lap anyway. Salaì squawked but settled so he could kiss Leonardo properly. Salaì then settled comfortably against Leonardo’s chest, eyes closed.
He opened his eyes when Leonardo started to laugh softly. “So. You can keep your hands still.”
“Hmm?” Salaì pulled away before rolling his eyes. “Oh, fottiti.” He got up and went to finish getting dressed as Leonardo’s laughter grew.
“Judging by how badly I tied you, you could have just pulled your hands away in an instant!”
“Stronzo!”
Leonardo only laughed, and even if Salaì couldn’t stay truly irritated for very long, he could act like it. He only snapped at Leonardo, “Get dressed.”
“Alright, alright.” Leonardo got up. “There’s money on the table. Go to the market and get some breakfast, and I’ll join you to eat.”
“Si, Maestro.” Salaì grabbed the money, counting it as he went. There was enough there, he thought, that Leonardo wouldn’t notice at all if he got himself something new. But, he thought, he was hungry. He would do as Leonardo asked, then later he would slip away, to gamble for more at La Volpe Addormentata, then buy something nice for himself.