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To Catch a Rook

Chapter Text

Rooks scattered, taking flight over the dusty, smoke filled city below and screeched in protest as they sailed across the rooftops. Each wing flapping with haste as they’d not been easily startled, beady eyes wide with anticipation as their tiny hearts beat rapidly in preparation, it was too late however as the shadow descended and in an instant, the claws sank into flesh and the bird cried out in panic, twisting around almost frantic to escape but there would be none. A sharp beak lowered and all which registered in the fleeting life of that creature was darkness.

A soft click of metal, fingers closing the case in time for a low sigh to follow and light brown eyes caught something between the iron bars of the clock face. Arms which previously folded now slipped free, the creak of leather as they were carefully placed apart and fingers rested upon the cold stone. Having heard the screech before seeing it, now a keen gaze followed the progress, a Hawk was hunting high it seemed. They weren’t a common sight around London, not like the Rooks however which were everywhere. Lips tugged at the corners, a part of them wished the smaller bird on but knew it was too late and turned away just as the predator had caught it’s prey.

Jacob Frye, at twenty one years old he was in his prime and stood with all the confidence of a man that would get things done, evidence of this was the slightly worn metal on knuckle dusters, a fresh bruise that formed upon one cheek and how his eyes seemed to dance with mischief and fire. On this occasion however, he was attempting patience. Word had spread of his influence within the city, preferring to be the one out in full view which was completely unlike his twin Sister, Evie who was more inclined to work in the shadows just as their organisation wished its members to be.

Assassin’s had been fighting Templar's for centuries, the city of London was bloated with such hierarchical men of power, using their underlings called ‘Blighters’ to exact their iron fist control over the populous and even the world if their reach had not been kept short thanks for the Creed.

Having been an Assassin all his life, a birthright that was foisted upon him by his father a man whom was well respected and known for his achievements and skill, something Jacob sorely felt lacking in all ways as they were more like Evie than he liked to think. Then again, he was more inclined to get down and dirty, not sit idly by awaiting fanciful items of power, pieces of Eden they were called and the Templar's wanted them. Let his sister chase those butterflies, he will be grasping the bull by the horns. With a grin he rested upon the wall nearest the massive clock face, gears clicked and the hands moved. The time in lieu with his own pocket watch, which once again had been opened to check, surely they should have arrived by now?

With a loud clunk, barely noticeable to the people walking below, the hands moved and his patience began to wane. There was another sigh this one much louder than before, even though he spent a lot of his time running from here to there doing what any good Gang Leader would do and that was get down to business, this was such but not the type he was used to. Information however was always greatly received, their contact was a man of notable trustworthiness and prominent in the Creed which was why he felt a certain excitement at making a possible new friend.
Should he start pacing? Head tilted down with the chin resting upon his chest, he continued to await this mysterious person, barely sparing much thought on anything else. It was such a state of mind that distractions did not come easily otherwise that gift which so few possessed would pick up the faintest of sounds and it was with such stealth that the other moved. A shadow through the clockworks, a careful step down, swinging off one beam to the next and moving against the faint sunlight as so their presence could not be betrayed by the darkness cast from his form.

A pause, the body lowering to a crouch and peering down upon the man. Within the folds of their bleached white robes some paper was withdrawn, the scrawl but a time and place with nothing further. He ripped the information up, letting it fall like tiny snowflakes falling from the ancient clock tower. Another beam was leaped upon, was this the man? They looked as if asleep and this caused the approaching figure some anxiety,

Far from asleep, merely lost in endless thought that soon trailed off to blankness, something he often did whenever someone was speaking in technical terms or his sister was regaling another tale of what Assassin did which or letting him know some useless information about a mythical item that held little interest in him. For all his faults which he saw as merits, the tiniest bit of white caught his eye and whilst the fleck of paper gently floated to the floor and his vision narrowed.

It was with a calculating leap did they finally descend there was a low click whilst fingers flexed instinctively with the arm held back and at the last moment would thrust outwards, it took only a moment to realise it had met resistance whereas any other time it would slide past fabric into flesh but his Hidden Blade was blocked, lips twitched and from beneath the shadowed hood did eyes loft to meet theirs.

Appearing calm, it was a rarity if any should get the better of Jacob Frye and this was no different, the slight shock registered in the face of his opponent was all that he needed to know they’d underestimated him. Having brought up the gauntlet, the weapon which had been meant for his neck no doubt was being blocked by equally terrifying metal. He’d twist the leather and snatched the blade, grasping it with a fearless disposition.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

It was almost a challenge, those words and the toothy smile which followed only incensed the attacker, whom instantly yanked his arm back which surprisingly toppled the stocky man, there he would kick both legs upon their chest and propelled himself backwards and stood, a second click sounded and would reveal the blade on his other arm. Their words were met with silence, not wanting to give anything away to this possible miscreant, a challenge was issued with the wave of the newly adorned hand.

Knuckles were cracked, Jacob also had a fancy blade but he would rather get stuck in and not stab someone from behind. It felt too cowardly for the Frye. Taking a step forward, the tails of his coat fanning out momentarily as a rush of wind from the movement caught it. Another advancing step, this one quicker than the last and with fists raised he went for the wrists.
Giving credit where it was due, they moved with surprising skill and dexterity that Jacob thought he’d severely underestimated his opponent, then again it was easy to see this Assassin was well trained and the blows intended to disable would be deflected time and time again, the sound of steel clashing along with the scuffing of feet upon wood. The clock ticked, their breaths steady, the dance a unique one as the pair appeared to be both in complete control of the other and he could find no opening, until.. A triumphant smile, he locked his dusters behind the blade, causing them both to suddenly become closer than before.

A soft sound of annoyance, muscles taunt as the locking of limbs at that moment had put pay towards the next move, going so far as stamping on their leg or trying to trip all that was achieved was the closeness of bodies and suddenly aware of how much closer the male was. He almost reeled back in response, if it had not been for that almost disarming smile.

Battles are not always won fairly, in a fight like this he was no exception and watching their eyes beneath that hood was a clear indication of their next action, what would unsettle them the most was his next act and only by chance had it knock them enough that the hood was dislodged. It was now Jacob’s turn to be surprised, what greeted him was a youthful beauty that made his heart clench and those eyes, such depth to them that he felt as if drowning.

Ezio watched them transition from triumph to confusion then wonder, such a strange man. Though used to being the center of attention, with men and women alike all gazing at him with that wistful lusting expression, but the way on which they were looking upon him it was as if he were almost a freak, instantly his fire was ignited. “What are you staring at?” Ezio Auditore was a man around equal age and height to his foe, an Italian Assassin raised with the ranks of mentor in mind, except he was brash, sometimes impulsive and very much a man that followed his emotions.

Was he truly staring? What a handsome male if he should think so himself and even if the fight was still on he had already found the clincher to this battle. With a flicker of mischief, weight was thrown against the lithe form and didn’t meet much resistance, unsurprisingly he used this to his advantage and caught lips in a stolen if not brief kiss that would either end with the blade down his gullet or..what else did he hope for?

Completely unexpected and wholly unwanted, Ezio was not a single man and his heart belonged to another, a snarl was given the kiss did it’s initial intent but they had chosen the wrong one to play with and teeth found the lip where a bite caused blood to flow, raising one knee to impact between the legs which found that irregardless of the amount of leather coating this man, it offered little protection from it.

The contact was broken, staggering back bloodied and now in pain he raised one hand in pause whilst wheezing for a time out. Jacob could not complain, he had done something just as low and dirty but the temptation had been real, those lips looked so inviting and some time had gone since he’d felt such. “You..are you..the contact?” one eye squeezed shut, watching the other Assassin as they looked angrily down at him, at least those blades were retracting, a small mercy.

“I am fratello, do you not recognise my clothing or did you think me an impostor?” Fingers flexed, the clock slid to the next number and he approached them.

“Well you attacked first, I was only defending myself” With a breathless laugh, he finally rested against the back of the clock face and trying to push the discomfort from both body and mind.

Not hiding the irritation in words “Do you always kiss your opponent?, Ezio folded his arms and saw what had happened as a mere fluke, something childish that would not be repeated. He let fingers dance however, a clear sign that should they attempt to repeat that it would not end well for them.

“Only the good looking ones.”

“I am not here to flirt with you, I have brought information it is that which you seek?”

Squinting up at them having still doubled over from the pain, his bollocks no doubt going to ache to hell and back now. “So you are the informant” extending a shaky hand “Jacob Frye.”

Looking at the proffered limb, half tempted to slap it away as he was still a little bitter about them kissing him without permission “Ezio Auditore da Firenze.” Without skipping a beat he pulled out the envelope and thrust it into their hand instead “Now I will take my leave, “Ci vediamo.”

Stares at paper in his hand, finally able to stand upright he popped the seal and pulled out it’s contents, the writing was in a format he could not understand “Wait-- you don’t expect me to read all this?”

“I expect you do with it as you will” Started to walk, he’d already spied a serviceman door which he would use to leave the Clock Tower.

“I can’t read this.” He sounded offended, the double writing was hard on his eyes and he never did learn Assassin Code.

Pauses, wondering if this man was some kind of fool. “You cannot read?”

A loud scoff followed that question “Of course I can read! Just not..this” slaps his hand upon the paper and turned it to face them “Go give this to my sister, Evie, I haven’t got the time to sit around and read this.” Folded it back up and slid into the envelope, offering it to Ezio.

There was a muttering of Italian oaths, all but storming over “What kind of Assassino are you? Apart from a stupid one?”

“Hey, that’s not fair I…” Didn’t get to finish.

“Sending me all this way to have this stronzo try to kiss me and then tell me he cannot read.” Was getting more and more irate, the audacity of this male was grating upon the Italian in a way that was neither good nor beneficial to the situation and he snatched the letter back, watching as Jacob’s mouth hung open long enough for him to stuff it in there “Better that than my foot!”

Jacob could only stare, mouth full of paper and steadily realising he was drooling and spat it out, holding both hands up in placating gesture, honestly they looked so wild and beautiful when flying into a rage like that, that he couldn’t stop the words from coming out “I wish you would.”

A fist flew out, for a man that did very little actual hand to hand combat these days he had tussled with many in his youth and there was no slouching, the strike perfect enough to land upon a cheek and send them reeling back. What kind of man was he? “Vaffanculo!” Grabbed them by the shirt and pinned against the wall.

Everything happened so fast that he was being struck, his mind slowly making the connection of what had just been said when it finally regained some sense they were there, again and eagerly did his heart betray him by fluttering. Having no idea what was being said, the proximity to them along with the warmth of that touch caused another spat of verbal mischief.

“I’d at least take you out for dinner first.”

Another punch, to the other cheek this time.

“Oh god..stop that…” Or don’t he was starting to enjoy the angry flare in those eyes, the way on which each strike was strong but so full of passion. He idly wondered what it would be like to see those eyes in another state, a heat from something much more intimate, but right now he was lucky to not be knocked out.

Half raised the fist would pause, ready to deliver another blow to this insubordinate Assassin and what was with that? Almost hissed and dropped them, they’d been so close that he only just felt what this was really doing to them. Hitting wouldn’t work it seemed, the dirty bastard was getting aroused by it! Contemplates stabbing them.

Swallowing thickly, Jacob knew this wasn’t normal, of course he would get excited in a fight, who wouldn’t? The thrill of it all the raw manner of combat, how skill and luck would play the most part, getting aroused from being struck was not only a new sensation for him but a confusing one that made him realise that Ezio should not have stopped, he wanted them to punish him.

“ not what it looks like.”

“It looks exactly like that troia!”

“This has never happened before.”

“You should use your coin for a puttana.”

“I don’t want a put in..what?”

Forgot they didn’t understand Italian and searched for the English word before replying “Whore.” He didn’t need to resort to such, he was never bereft of men or women to entertain him and parting with coin was not needed either.

“You’ve obviously not been to the brothels up Whitechapel.”

“I do not care for you!” With that he spun back round, tugged his hood up and marched with purpose towards the door, getting away from this Assassin seemed like a good plan, he would find their sister and deliver the letter in hope that they were less insane than their sibling was. Reaching the door, he yanked on it and found that no matter what it would neither move nor give any sign to letting them exit any time soon. Distracted as such, he did not sense the shadow now presence closing in on him.

Having felt bad for what just transpired, Jacob made no move to follow and instead stood pouting almost and palms the small rise between thighs, looking up only when the constant banging noise and cursing from the Italian had him realise that they were having trouble. Slowly he crept around the beams until right behind. “It’s locked.”

Freezing on the spot, shouldering Jacob so hard they stumbled back “I know how to pick a lock.” Drops down to a kneel, reaching into pouches to pull out the pick and set about doing just that.

Leaning against the central beam, another tick and clank of the Clock hand as he watched them try to pick the lock, after a few minutes of silence between them he’d began to whistle.

With a twitch, tolerating the sound only until the pick snapped and so did his temper, rounding on them “Must you do that?”

Again hands shot up in placation “Do what?”

“You know exactly what, you distracted me and now..” Throws the broken pick at them. “You are doing this on purpose.”

Though he ducked the pick still struck his shoulder and clattered uselessly onto the floor, him looking as innocent as always “You can barely hear it in here.”

“I can hear it.”

“Mate, you’re so wound up like this Clock that I believe you’re the one that needs a whore to unload into.”

“I will make you eat your cock if you do not be quiet.”

“Oh please..”

Raises his fist and goes for them, only to have Jacob duck, laughing stupidly as they went and he overreached, stumbling onto the guardrail. There he was half bent over the bar, throwing a dirty glare at them “Come back here and take your beating like a man!”

“Only if you beat my cock first mate.” Winks and dances out of reach once more, now he’d registered their movements he could read the Assassin like a book. They would not be able to touch him unless he wanted it.

This was ridiculous, the angrier he got as they danced away the more inclined he would be to ram that hidden blade of theirs down the laughing Londoner’s throat, so why was he enjoying this? The initial rage now bubbled down into a simmer and shifted to that of desire, one that involved them coming much closer to him. His flailing faltered, slowing until all he did was walk after them with a purpose, using the new clarity to watch and wait.

Jacob noticed the shift, it went from murderous anger to quiet, it would unsettle him if it were not for the way those eyes stalked his every move, that was the only reason on which he slowed down and only darted at the last second, heels colliding with something on the floor, it had not been there before! Alarmed he staggered back against the wall.

All through this dance of sorts, he’d distracted them by keeping their gaze held, that left him open enough to shift a few items on the floor around, including a bucket which Jacob had now just collided with. Cornered did not mean an instant win, that much was certain with an Assassin, fingers rose up to pull down the hood and look upon them with some regard. “Give me a reason why I should not beat you within an inch of your life?”

“This face is too handsome to scar any more.” Almost pleading with them, couldn’t go another round of face punches as he was already aching from the last one.

A soft laugh from the Italian followed those words, perhaps they were handsome he had not taken the time to truly see them in such a regard, now he had a perfect chance and with a soft noise he bopped the hat off their head, much better. That hair would feel so nice between fingers.

Lips twitched upwards, the hat rolling off his head and onto the floor there they could see how slicked back the locks were as otherwise the strands would be wild like bush and only a few hours scraping it back each morning seemed to tame it. All but relaxing now, both elbows rested on the wall trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Perhaps, amico..” This was not so wrong, they appearing willing enough and it wasn’t as if he was bereft of comfort at any given time. Still he was curious, no man had ever reacted with..interest when he was in a flying rage, many would flee or unwillingly retaliate but this Jacob Frye was like a moth to the flame and he would burn them to ash.

Chapter Text

Click the gear turned and the gigantic hand moved with a loud clunk, settling it’s arrow upon the next number in it’s ever eternal circling of the face, below the sounds from the streets were but a distant hum of commotion, people walking by, carriages clattering past with the horses snorting and whinnying, the shouting of sellers mixing against the ever present noise of industry that denoted the cities continual advancement into the Victorian age. A loud whistle could be heard, trains leaving their stations on journeys across ever clattering rails and the odd blast of horns from passing ships.

London didn’t sleep, the sun rose and fell with little impact on the city below. This was his bread and butter, a playground if you would where he was slowly ruling from the gutters to the high slated roofing of rich aristocrats homes. With boots that knew their way, a rush of air following and a slight tilt past a blast of smoke from one building, there he’d with a powerful kick of feet, would leap to the next roof where he’d roll across the slate and into an upright position. Behind him the sounds of pursuit all but ended, skidding to a halt the two burly males staggered at the edge of the other house and raised fists in anger.

Removing the top hat, it was lowered in a mock bow. “Gentlemen..” a flash of white teeth as he turned heel and continued to run, blood was dripping from his hidden blade and the victim lay slumped against an alleyway already being filched of their wares by street Urchins. His bodyguards denied their revenge, crimson slowly pooling at the floor and with a startled cry the children scattered, one of them dropping something clearly silver and valuable but with the figure that waved a stick and blew a whistle it was suicide to return for it. Soiled and stepped upon by advancing boots, the Templar Cross disappeared into the mud.


Much like that time ago, Jacob Frye’s heart was thumping and not from the thrill of a deadly chase but the proximity of the advancing figure. Very much like a rabbit frozen in front of a predator, digits could only grasp faintly at the brickwork, any purchase lost upon its smooth surface and again the hand moved clunk towards it’s next destination. Swallowing away any apprehension, surely his heart was now ascending his throat. There would be no attempts to escape, even if that possibility existed he denied such an opportunity in favour of daring to shove his hand into that fire.

“Hey stronzo, are you tired?”

Far from it, but limbs disobeyed him and the attempt to move was thwarted by them and he found that leaning in this position was beneficial in that respect, “Not even breaking a sweat.” He white lied, beneath cloth was a few droplets of perspiration being caught by fabric.

“Good, because I am not done with you yet” his accent was thick, so full of promise and gloved fingers rose to lips where the tips of teeth caught the end of leather in a firm grip that he could slip the hand from them and slipped it into one of the many pouches attached to a belt around his waist.

Feigning panting he smiled down at them “I am just catching my breath.” his cock twitched, the way those teeth gently took the glove and that look they gave, he was sure it was either borderline sadism or lust. How many others had such a gaze grace them?

Ezio wanted more than that, he thought as he’d saunter closer to Jacob and withdrawing the hand from the pouch to close the clasp and slid a thumb through the belt, dragging over buckles that were undone in one smooth motion. With a soft thud it would fall to the floor, boots carefully stepped over. “I want you to apologize to me.” The top two buttons of his shirt were popped open, exposing a tantalising view of his collar bone and the faintest hint of a muscled chest.

Like a fish out of water, his mouth worked but nothing came out. The usually so vocal and foot in mouth Assassin was silent, thoughts scattered like a cat amongst the pigeons. Not able to take any part of his gaze from that neck, it looked so smooth and soft, enough that a little saliva escaped lips. Hastily gauntlets lofted to swipe over his mouth, apologise? For what, for this? No way in hell was he going to do that. A nervous laugh, for all the hot air he could come out with it was a rarity that anyone would get the best of him.

Bemused with the turn of events, where had that loud mouthed little Cazzo gone? He turned so meek at a bit of flesh, this was quite thrilling in a way, Ezio was used to making others breathless but not into a complete stupor, the way they stared at him made it all the more obvious that this man had never been seduced before. He’d laugh if it didn’t feel so much like a challenge, a quick glance down meant that little effort was needed, they’d grown much larger and it was easier to see how big Jacob was, the way their body bent a little like that had almost everything exposed.

Wetting lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, Ezio closed the distance, hooking both arms about their neck and leaning in. “I have never had an English before..” The women of Firenze were always a beauty to behold, the men handsome and often delicate flowers that wailed into the sheets if you did not stretch them enough. Here was a real man, all muscle and apart from that slightly dumb look they had going, was quite roguishly handsome. The tips of fingers danced up the nape of their neck, teasing lips together.

There was a slight pause however, about to taste them when a light scent drifted off the male and his nose wrinkled slightly. They were not pungent but, having only lain with well kept men this was something outside his usual taste and it took him a moment to realise it was alcohol he could pick up, the distinctiveness of it now evident as he could also pick out a faint smoke like smell and it mixed with the rest of what he’d come to understand as the Londoner’s o adorare.

That hesitation along with the fact they were pulling a face at him made Jacob’s expression shift to confusion, a quick turn of his head and sniffed, no sweaty aroma so that ruled that out at least but the fact Ezio looked almost disgusted had him wonder if this was going to end sooner than it began. With a flicker of defiance and left hesitation behind, hands shot up to grasp silken strands and push their lips towards his own and pressed together. Though eyes had closed the moment they met, he could feel them staring at him but he didn’t stop, sliding his tongue over lips and easing within with little resistance meant he’d progressed at least.

They tasted sweet, much unlike any man he had kissed before and it was something he found himself wanting more of. Going so far as to groan lowly, a sensation sent a strong shiver down his spine, wounding fingers around hair then brushing back so they collided with the little slip of ribbon that held it all back, grasping it he would tug and open both eyes long enough to enjoy the new view he had of them and it was glorious.

Putting aside the fact they tasted almost like a brewery, he found it was not as unpleasant as his senses first made it out to be and almost reluctantly he’d part lips, letting them taste him in time with own exploration. Lids had remained open, mostly due to the surprise then distrust he felt, but the more their tongues lashed together the more relaxed he felt and that little sound, it was so.. His length gave another interested twitch and soon realised that they were playing with his hair, even letting it fall free.

Resting a palm upon their chest he pulled away “Like what you see?” not a man of true vanity, he merely wanted to hear praise from them.

Jacob almost whimpered when they parted, but it would not be for long his heart sang watching them look upon him anew and a little thrill shot through his being, happily getting even harder from the sight.

“” Felt that against his thigh, they were so big but he was not going to let the Londoner have their wicked way, oh no. A perceptive look appeared, leaning away to finish what was started moments ago and didn’t stop until every button of their shirt was open. Own fingers slid through locks, as the other hand lingered upon his chest with a content sigh then began to glide down over the warm flesh, curious to see how they’d react to this.

He’d been into all the seedy bars of London, seen the extent some women went to ‘seduce’ men, a quick wave of the breast was often more than enough but others needed coaxing, he wasn’t the type for that and liked a quick tumble in the sheets over to some lengthy foreplay. The reason had always been time, never having enough of it do what he wanted that even now his mind was subconsciously ticking down the minutes. Yet there was no rush, no eagerness to bypass it all and get straight down but watching them he realised now what all that was for and he felt a dampness within, oh no.. cringed a little in embarrassment.

What a thing to happen, he could run across speeding trains, leap about from crazy driven carriages, start a fight with several blokes at once and win but watching Ezio touch himself, he’d gone and gotten too excited too soon it seems and quickly placed a hand over his bulge. “I..I wasn’t ready..”

Far from being upset the Italian felt honoured, never had someone become so wet and hard this quickly, it only served to make his ego rise into the heavens and for that he would reward this man, yes already deciding that he could spare the time and effort to take them. “Relax fratello, I will make you feel good soon enough. “ With that promise he batted their hand away and concentrated on removing the gauntlet on their arm, he’d be doing the same with his own as it paid to be careful. With the latches undone, he’d leave the rest to them whilst starting on the thin leather ones which held his bracers and with ease of practice they were slipped free in moments, pulling away to gently place both atop a nearby crate. “Now we will have no more accidents. “ A knowing look in those eyes, Jacob handing him theirs, which he now felt the true weight of and it was not as light as his own, in fact it seemed purposely built to be like that. He’d inspect it some more later. Right now all attention was upon inspecting them.

Unlike the Italian, his movements were clumsy in comparison and fumbled with the jacket where it was hastily shrugged off both shoulders and allowed to drop to the floor, there he stood almost unsure of what else to do, normally he’d be kissing, touching and everything came automatically but beneath their gaze he wanted to impress them. This time he tugged the scarf free then remembering what they did, would pop open the buttons from top to bottom only pausing when a warm hand fell against his, eyes widening a little.

Watching the cocky, self assured man melt into this-- whatever it is, was both intriguing and a little disappointing, this was obviously something outside their comfort zone. Going to Jacob’s rescue he grasped their hand, “Non..” he did not need a strip tease to become aroused. Just more of those groans and to feel this.. Slipped a hand down to cup them, lids fluttering from the feeling of that, what a prize he’d muse, already eagerly undoing the belt to their trousers and to make them more relaxed, kissed again. There would be little sense in letting this be one sided, that was not how he worked, even the sobbing youths would cry out with pleasure in the end.

Almost instantly Jacob relaxed, lips parting for them this time and slipping their tongues against each others where it only took a few swipes to have that little bundle of nerves untangle and finished removing his shirt, letting that too drop and placing both hands upon their cheeks in time to part for air. “I am guessing you know what you are doing?” as this would be painful for either one if preperation wasn’t made well in advance. The look he got in return was almost of hurt, he quickly gathered himself though “I didn’t mean to insult you, It’s just, whatever we do I would rather it not be overly dry.” a nervous laugh followed, very rarely did he entertain such a thing, the one time it had been done to him was enough to put Jacob off ever doing it again for a long time, but that was with someone inexperienced and he wasn’t that foolish any more.

“Of course, I would not leave you bent over and unable to walk. “ Not this time, he thought with a smile and with a stroke of almost genius he remembered the bottle in his robes, having been to the market some hours before to procure it, such an expensive commodity in this country but so easily obtained in his home land.Marvellous for use in this situation but he’d be genial with it as was his reluctance to part with the Oil being so far from Italy. “Un momento.” Seeking within the fabric for the bottle he located it after rifling through a few other items of worth that he’d obtained that day and placed it on the floor.

Intrigued, he stared blankly at the bottle they’d pulled out and was only faintly aware of the progress in their clothing, by the time he’d finished staring at the bottle Ezio had completely removed the top half of his clothing and a breath was sharply sucked in, Assassin attire always served to be as free flowing and comfortable as it could get given their vigorous lifestyles and this was no exception, his imagination did no justice to the man standing in front of them. A few scars marked almost perfect skin, a frame moulded no doubt from days of practice with strong looking arms that would hoist, lift and catch from running about buildings day and night. He knew little about statues but had seen one in a museum once when he’d been following a lead, they looked as if carved from the same, perfect and almost godlike. Compared to them he was a gorilla. Chews lips, looks didn’t bother him before but once again he felt under scrutiny and not worthy of this Assassin. Conscious of their gaze his own lowered to the the barrel like muscle that made up his own chest, though thick lines streaked flesh beneath and a patch of hair gathering at the top only to trail off down below.

Not completely bereft of such roughness, he was also as hairy though it was more smoother and more shapely due to the strict hygiene rules he’d followed since a boy. Even his face was shaved as regularly as possible otherwise it might be like Jacobs, he smiled a little as that unkempt look suited him however and when they kissed he barely noticed the bristles. Finally freed of their clothing he moved closer, resting a hand upon thick hips and studying that body slowly with his gaze. Not athletic like himself, it was still in peak condition if not marked with plenty of bruises, cuts and scars, proof that they’d lived a tough life.

With a gentleness that was almost uncharacteristic of him lips found every scar and kissed them in turn, this would serve as another way to keep Jacob calm and relaxed. Especially after what he had planned.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the time they were taking, so gentle and careful with each kiss and caress that he could almost weep from it, at first the unusual sensation of warm dampness upon skin made him shiver and twitch a little until it started to feel good, a breath was sucked in and held the moment those teasing lips brushed over a nipple, he almost cried out, arching against the wall almost violently.

A brow rose at their reaction, moving the kisses up the throat and to lips once more and coaxing them each swipe of his tongue and using such a distraction to work on finally removing their belt and grasping the trousers with a firm grip, yanking only enough to let them fall the rest of it’s way on their own. A small strand of saliva remained connected when the kiss ended once more, wiping it away with his tongue he drank in the new sight of them, of their cock freed and very much erect. His own responding in kind, almost making the Italian wince from the suddenness of it.

It was almost a shame, staring at that huge cock was somewhat disconcerting as he’d not seen one so large before and that imagining that going anywhere near his arse? He would need more than the small bottle of Olive oil, that much was sure.

“I will prepare you.”

Snapping more awake, he regarded them with a small smile “I can do it myself.”


“I know how to stretch my own arse mate.”

“I will stretch your arse with my foot!”

“I didn’t put you down for that kind of person..”

“Look at me, I am going limp.”

Holds his hands up in supplication, he simply could not win against them and that didn’t feel as bad as it should whenever Jacob lost, in fact their fiery response only made him want them all the more, they simply had to be a fantastic fuck?

Bending down to remove the other Assassin’s boots and let them kick out of the trousers, he’d then grasp the bottle, giving it a quick shake and would solemnly pop the cork. It didn’t smell as tantalising as he’d hoped, pouring some into his palm with a thankful sigh. The oil certainly looked better than it smelt which was a good thing and thrust the bottle into Jacob’s hand, “Hold this. “ Having been to close to his body for so long it was already quite warm to the touch and gave their legs a slap “open” he’d command, reaching between with damp fingers in search of their entrance.

The only reason he had offered was due to habit, if he chose to be on the receiving end he’d rather have some kind of preparation even if it was of his own accord, it merely meant less chance of tearing and walking around stiff legged for a while, though the rare times that had happened he survived the jesting of his Rooks. The Rooks were a gang of like minded people he had rounded up, organised and kept in line as they took on the Blighters and Templar's that were trying to rule London. It was hard not to get close to them as they all looked out for one another, sort of like one big family.

They also didn’t judge him for his stance or personal preferences and that had made leading them much easier, respect also played a part. Being the one to bare the brunt of most fights, to lead every raid and assault without question, he also tried to be fair with each one no matter what happened and it was such blind faith in others which caused the greatest of grief and issue.

Was he blindly trusting Ezio? Of course, but they were doing something mutually beneficial and him not being blinded by a good cause that was a blanket for the true intent and purpose or why he was being lead to assume the task would be a good one.

Thighs obliged and parted, thinking of resting his gaze upon the top of Big Ben but only managing to tense a little when the slickness slowly teased around the ring of muscle, letting out a breath he wasn’t even aware of holding it that was moment they chose to plunge it it. Almost crying out and crawling halfway up the tower, that was more of a surprise than pain, the discomfort brief when it was clear that the Italian knew exactly what they were doing. That was good, at least one of them did.