San had propped his upper body up next to Wooyoung. The candlelight shone on the bare spread of his chest and danced in the dips and valleys of his muscles. One of Wooyoung's hands trailed over it as he lazily repainted the man's body as if he were an artist about to sculpt San out of stone. San let him; not ticklish as they basked in the warmth between them under their shared cover.
From time to time, San's eyes flicked to the pearl in Wooyoung's hair that had stayed in place snugly, even as the rest of his body had fallen apart under San. Something akin to pride shone in his eyes whenever he found it hidden between Wooyoung's wild curls.
"Was waiting for me difficult?" Wooyoung's voice was scratchy in the bedroom of San's flat. He lived on the upper floor of a three-story building tucked away in the prettier area of town. They had opened the door to let fresh air in, and some of the Mediterranean plants Wooyoung had spotted lining every centimetre of his balcony reminded him of the Hanging Gardens. The mild climate of Italy hadn't killed the plants off in winter and they already strived again with the little sun spring brought.
"I was glad knowing you were safe from some troubles I ran into. We joked about it, but the plague was horrible. Men who usually knew to defend themselves and fight for their loved ones in wars were entirely helpless." San matched Wooyoung's softness. A smile ghosted over his lips when Wooyoung's finger caught onto his nipple and brushed it playfully.
"Wooyoung, I wanted to ask you something."
Surprised by the sudden change in topic, Wooyoung adjusted his head. From sleepy eyes, he looked up at San's grave expression. His brows had drawn together over his sharp gaze that eyed Wooyoung ever so intimately.
"What is it?"
"What is your concept of... love?"
The sudden deep question had Wooyoung's finger chill on San's chest. In response, San picked up Wooyoung's hand with his to settle both of them down on Wooyoung's chest. His thumb stroked the back of Wooyoung's hand.
"It's very different from yours," Wooyoung whispered. "In my time, we get married, but affairs are akin to stabbing your partner in the back and there are no slaves to play with. People promise their loyalty to each other as lovers and devote all of their feelings to one person."
San listened quietly. Albeit Wooyoung explaining a foreign concept to him, an understanding that would be unusual for anyone living in this time conveyed in his gaze.
San had never been usual, though. In his journey through life, he had experienced love so differently.
"We don't marry just for political or social ties, or for kids. We just want to be close to our special people in every way possible. Whether they are men or women also plays no role."
"Do you have someone like that? Whom you love so dearly?"
Wooyoung had to smile. San asked it so seriously, as if he considered backing out from a person long not in existence since there was no fair duelling option to win the main prize - Wooyoung.
"I don't. Or else I wouldn't be here in your bed."
San understood that. His smile turned bashful.
"I think I love you, Wooyoung. Although I can't tell you if it's in the way you would love me. And neither do I know how to show that love to you in a way that aligns with your standards."
Wooyoung's heart did a gigantic leap in his chest. San probably felt how Wooyoung's breath stumbled and then continued irregularly.
The butterflies going rampant in his belly took Wooyoung's words for a long minute. Then he schooled his expression to match their dreamy mood again.
"What makes you think so?"
"My perception of love changed a lot through the centuries. Back when I first met you, you would have been a flirt of many, just another man who was interested in the harem. In Rome, you could have been a love affair if you stuck around. I would have showered you with presents for allowing me access to your body every so often. But lately, I... Ljóðey was like this, too. She became my wife for our social status in the village, yes. But she loved me with all of her heart. Was gentle and kind even when I couldn't gift her children and when she grew old while I stayed young. I was that precious to her. No matter how many people were next to her, no matter whether they were male or female. She didn't beg me to return. But whenever I did, she showed me how happy that made her." San visibly struggled at getting the words together in a logical order. Awed, Wooyoung listened to him while San recaptured his memories.
"I thought about it since I met you in Nottingham. So much between us is based on Venus games but even outside of that... My heart fills with joy whenever I see your face again and I yearned for the past five years since I knew this day was drawing close. When I asked myself if that was me looking forward to our bedroom time, it wasn't. This is just the most beautiful present that I get along with your company." San dipped to leave a reverent kiss on Wooyoung's collarbone. His lips trembled as if he was unsure whether Wooyoung would understand this much emotion in him.
And it was a rare find. But not so rare when considering how far developed San's brain was already.
"That is a very modern way of viewing it, yes. I would like you to love me like that. Our lives go irregular paths. Yours is filled with people and marriages and affairs. I appear only sometimes. So waiting to love me might be an impossible task." Wooyoung's hand found San's hair, carding through the strands. Like a raven's feathers, they rushed through his fingers.
San looked up at him again, his gaze determined.
"Then I want to try. I want to try loving you long enough that one day, we will meet as equals at a time when I can see you every day. And I want to dedicate all of those days to you."
Warm and full, Wooyoung's heart was ready to burst. He didn't show his giddiness about the confession, calling himself to calm down. Not that he could mask the grin on his lips.
"I will be delighted to love you back then. I, too, look forward to our meetings all the time. And I would gladly spend every day of my life with you once we equal each other."
San's smile was so affectionate that Wooyoung had to clutch his hand over his chest. When San noticed him doing it, he giggled. The kiss they shared was slow and doting. It had Wooyoung's heart expand so much with emotion that he believed it took all of him over to the tips of his toes.
Wooyoung pulled San in again and the man's hand found his thigh to slot their bodies back together. They were sleepy and overwhelmed with what they felt, but every moment was pure and genuine. Wooyoung adored every minute as he held San close and never let go of him throughout the night.
-
"I have never been to Leonardo's residence myself. He rarely invites guests over. I know where his work studio is, though. The king gave him the upper floor of the church tower to work in and he built his atelier there."
When San noticed Wooyoung's struggle with getting his cloak accessories to dangle in the correct places without breaking his shoulder, he came over to help. He continued to talk in his smooth voice as his fingers untangled the fur from the chains. Wooyoung dropped his hands to allow him more space.
"He is a grumpy man and probably not too keen on meeting us. I hope his follower has all the information you will need from him."
"What's his name?"
"Seonghwa. A stuck-up scholar son mostly but his interest in the arts is genuine."
Wooyoung had to snicker at the way he worded it. The imagination of academically educated people looking down on San for being of lower rank amused him to no end. If only they knew. San carried all the knowledge of their wet dreams and he was an able fighter.
When San moved to step back from Wooyoung, Wooyoung reached an arm out to wrap it around the man's waist. Naturally, San's head dipped when they kissed. Wooyoung smiled into the soft kisses San's plush lips provided.
They left the house together a few minutes later and walked down the stairs leading up to the third floor outside the building. As they mingled with the people on the street, San's side remained pressed close to Wooyoung's, so they wouldn't lose each other. Wooyoung's heart sung from his proximity and how much peaceful time they had already spent together. Back in Norway, he had been terrified of his surroundings and, by extent, also San. Here, they could be unbothered nobodies.
The church was the enormous building with the clock tower that took up nearly the entire north side of the town square. Wooyoung grumbled to himself when they had to cross the place again and it was just as clustered with people as last time. As soon as San's hand reached for his between the folds of their clothing, however, Wooyoung's disgruntlement perished. Happily, he clung to San's hand and kept him close as they used their sneak path once more.
They entered the church with kind nods at the man with a long white garment and a cross necklace that greeted them at the entrance. As soon as San led them around the corner and up the stairs leading to the gallery, Wooyoung spoke in the silent chilliness of the building.
"What would Odin say about this?" He whispered so they wouldn't disrupt the people praying and wandering around the holy place.
San snickered at him.
"He would be disappointed that we exchanged him for a more docile god," he muttered against Wooyoung's ear.
Their little jest died out when they took some distance from each other again to follow the church's rules. As they crossed the gallery to another winding staircase, Wooyoung eyed the altar down in the main hall. Churches had barely changed on their way to modernity.
They scaled yet another set of stairs before they found themselves shut out from the attic by a rustic wooden door. When San knocked on it, he avoided the metal texture with his knuckles.
"What is it?" Someone replied from inside a moment later. They sounded exasperated, as if they couldn't believe anyone would dare to knock on their door.
"We're here to seek Leonardo and his apprentice," San called back. He tried to keep his voice muffled for church propriety, but loud enough to penetrate the heavy door.
"He takes no more commissions currently!"
"We seek his wisdom, not his skill!" Wooyoung added.
For a moment, everything behind the door was quiet. Two male voices discussed among each other.
Then, just as Wooyoung wanted to shrug it off and try finding da Vinci's personal residence, steps neared them again. They halted on the other side of the door, but nobody opened it.
"He also takes no wisdom commissions. Don't bother us!" The man said.
Pouting, Wooyoung stepped back. San seized the door for a moment as if estimating if it was worth kicking it in, but he left it ultimately.
Defeated, San and Wooyoung trudged back down to the gallery before they revised their plan.
"I still need this information. How else can we get in?"
San hummed as he stared at the wooden ceiling above them.
"He leaves the tower rarely, but we can try to find our way around that. Someone in the city must have ties to him that allow them to go in and out."
Slowly, they walked back out of the church. Their shoulders brushed with every step and even through his many layers of clothes, Wooyoung believed to feel the man's heat. San's body had become so familiar to Wooyoung, even if it changed slightly over the years. San looked less bulky now than he had in Norway, but he was still lean and fit.
"Maybe his apprentice?"
A smirk snuck onto San's lips. With his dimples on display, he took Wooyoung's hand again to lead him along while hidden by their coats.
"That's a wonderful idea. Come. I know just the place where we can find out everything about him. And I will get some pleasure from bothering his oh so gracious self for a while."
Ignited by the man's glee, Wooyoung followed him through the alleys of Florence. His hand held San's rougher palm securely and kept close nearby him.