Romeo: Oh, I am fortune's fool! (Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)

There were no dreams.

Alessandro shifted, slowly surfacing from the black that had wrapped around him like a blanket. A ghostless night. The first in weeks.

He groaned, blinking awake against the early sunlight. Where was he? Armchair. Salon. Chess --

Giacinto.

Alessandro's eyes snapped onto the seat across from him. Empty. Had Giacinto just went to find the comfort of an actual mattress? (And his ridiculous amount of pillows. It was a bed, not a nest.)

Or had he found it at the bottom of a bottle and went to bed with his demons? He should've stayed awake. He should've –

"Morning, Giant."

Alessandro's head whipped around. Giacinto sat cross legged on the long table, in a hurricane of papers, shooting him a crooked grin.

The relief sagging Alessandro's shoulders was ridiculous.

"Good morning?" Alessandro winced at the rough depth of his voice. He cleared his throat. It seemed to amuse Giacinto greatly, his smug little smile crawling under Alessandro's skin. "That is normal. It's not funny."

"Oh, but your reaction makes it funny. You aren't quite aware of how big you are, are you?"

Alessandro grumbled. He was not awkward.

Giacinto tapped his quill against his leg, following an invisible tune, spraying ink all over his hands and papers. Gleaming black drops flew around like the notes of a dazzling Sonata.

"Do you ever sit normally?"

"Do you ever ask intelligent questions?" Giacinto yawned. "Hint: same answer."

Alessandro groaned again, dragging a hand over his face. It was too early for dealing with Giacinto. His glance fell to a black fabric pooling in his lap. His fingers skimmed over the oil black fur lining the cloak. He turned back to Giacinto, who was busy worsening the chaos of his papers. "Yours?"

"No, clearly a mystical prince charming was summoned by your drooling to save you from freezing to death overnight." Giacinto rolled his eyes at Alessandro, scribbling something down without even looking at his numbers.

"I do not drool," Alessandro protested.  He stifled another groan when his muscles ached in protest at getting up and making his way to the table. He wanted a bath.

He leant over Giacinto's shoulder, immediately hit with an apocalyptic amount of numbers. Too early. No mathematics before ten. He twisted the ring on his index absentmindedly, remembering Daniele's teasing.

Giacinto's quill flitted around with breakneck speed. Was he calculating all of this in his head?

Alessandro knew it, that man had made a pact with the devil. Giacinto's lips moved silently, nose scrunching up in irritation whenever he hesitated, had to check another page, before adding another number.

Alessandro opened his mouth to ask what those mad numbers even meant, but Giacinto raised a hand over his shoulder and, without looking up from his calculations, pressed his index against Alessandro's lips.

Alessandro froze. He was certain his mind had just emptied itself faster than when it was faced with equations.

His fingertip was rough. The climbing. He felt a small scar against his parted lips, felt the heat of his own breath against his skin.

"A second." Giacinto narrowed his eyes at the paper for a few seconds, added a last number and tossed it to the rest. "Now you may speak." He pulled his hand back.

Alessandro took a while to arrange a proper sentence. "What's this?"

"Bookkeeping." Giacinto hopped off the table, landing without a sound, stretching gracefully as a cat, but Alessandro didn't miss how his fingers dug into his hip, rubbing the scarred flesh. "Banker, remember?"

"Your bookkeeping is a nightmare." Why did he take his fake occupation so serious?

"Order is for boring giants. I rule in the eye of the storm. Chaos bows to me."

Alessandro laughed. Somehow that surprised both him and Giacinto.

Giacinto grinned, then did the next best thing to hide it -- making fun of Alessandro. "Is that a wrinkle?" He gasped, pointing at Alessandro's shirt. "You will die."

Alessandro sighed. "As humans do."

"You are so unfunny. God, why do I bother with you."

"Alessandro is fine."

Giacinto frowned. "Is that a 'good-looking' or a 'no-need-to-call-me-god' fine?"

"Your mind works in odd ways."

"It was a reasonable question," Giacinto defended himself.

"Because I'm good looking?" Alessandro felt his old smirk tug at the corner of his lips. Why did his old habits surface at the worst of times?

"Because you don't know how humor works."

"I do."

"You don't. Also, I'm not ever going to use your first name, so --" Giacinto yawned, then groaned, then cursed, then yawned again.

"Did you not sleep?" Alessandro's eyes flitted over the dark shadows under Giacinto's eyes. His dark skin hadn't been able to hide them for days now.

"A bit. Enough."

Alessandro narrowed his eyes.

"Get a kid, mother hen."

-- -- --

Laelia and Giacinto were doing a bad job ignoring each other at breakfast.

They were wrapped in the chirping of birds, the soft scent of roses and the flowing silk curtains of a little pagoda dancing between sun rays. The round table was overflowing with stacked fruits and little cake bites, still warm and smelling like Alessandro's orange and caramel childhood dreams.

It was terrible.

They all only sat an arm-length apart on the small table, Alessandro caught between stolen glances and dark frowns.

Giacinto would stare at her like a hawk, narrowed eyes and pursed lips, expression darkening with every glimpse. He must notice the puffiness around her eyes.

When he had arrived from the Medici villa, she had just stood there, lost in the middle of the salon. Trembling hands tried to wipe away the dried tears on her cheeks before Alessandro could see, her flimsy little silk slippers soaked in fresh blood.

When he had finally managed to forsake propriety and take her into his arms, she had clung to him like a child, hands fisted into his shirt, her up-do coming undone with every hiccup. He had noticed the empty, lighter spot on her ring finger.

What he heard had made his blood boil, the familiar old heat steaming deep inside of him, cooling against his icy grip and dripping back down. Drop by drop, just waiting to spill over.

She had stood in the warm blood of a man dying at her feet, watching the Lady Medici carve his heart out and send it to the Council in a dripping envelope. It was to rot in the middle of the council hall, until it was nothing but worms and its stench had burned a dire warning into everyone's mind.

If Giacinto ever caught word of this – or the Reaper attacking her just days ago – he would tear his ally limb from limb and drown death itself.

Alessandro feared what Giacinto could truly do. And what it would do to him.

Laelia in turn was stealing glances whenever Giacinto was bickering with Alessandro, wringing her hands and opening her mouth before clamping it back shut, looking down into her lap.

She was strong. Her fiancé, the man she loved and idolized all her life, had tried to kill her, plotted to ruin an entire city. She had been ripped from her golden home and thrust into a blood red night. She had escaped the most dangerous assassin in the world. She had to hear from Alessandro, stupid, stupid Alessandro, how the man she loved as dearly as a brother had been humiliated by his own father, her father in law, trying to beat Lorenzo's love out of him.

But when she saw she was loosing her friend, how she hurt him, she broke.

Just when Alessandro was about to flee the pavilion to not choke on the tension curling around them, Lorenzo appeared in a sunrise of gold. Golden earrings. Golden epaulets on his short cape. Crème pearls lining the wide sleeves of his blouse. Golden handled sabre at his side. A golden clasp holding swan feathers on the wide hat he swept off in greeting. Golden smile.

Alessandro was caught in twinkling blue eyes and the rosy, out of breath cheeks. Ran here. Why would he run here?

"How are my pretty boys?" Lorenzo laughed, leaning down to wrap an arm around Alessandro and Giacinto's shoulder each, pulling them close and planting a kiss against Alessandro's cheek. His lips lingered, brushing against the line of Alessandro's jaw as he pulled back.

Alessandro froze, trying to battle down the excitement bubbling in his chest and the fearful thunder of his heart. So Lorenzo wasn't mad at him. What if anyone saw? What if they knew? What if – this was ridiculous. Alessandro clenched his jaw.

Lorenzo gave his shoulder an apologetic squeeze as if he knew, quickly turning and kissing Giacinto's cheek. The Greek groaned, trying to squirm and flail out of Lorenzo's arm but failed miserably and resigned to dark glares.

"And a lovely good morning to my favorite little princess!" Lorenzo released them – Giacinto grumbling 'idiot sunshine' under his breath in Greek – and claimed the empty seat next to Laelia.

"I'm not little!" Laelia crossed her arms. "I'm taller than Gio!"

"Now that's not very hard, is it?" Lorenzo popped a grape into his mouth, shooting Giacinto a teasing grin.

Giacinto crossed his arms. "Neither would cutting your tongue out and feeding it to the strays be."

"You would be met with a very angry mob of grieving Ladies."

"And their husbands," Giacinto said dryly.

Lorenzo just laughed. "Got me there." He tossed up a grape, caught it with his mouth. How was he so calm about this?

Laelia tugged at Alessandro's arm. "What are they talking about?" She whispered.

"Merchant business."

"Oh!" Laelia's eyes lit up in understanding. "Because without a tongue he can't go over business contracts and then people would surely be very mad about not getting their goods!"

Lorenzo bit his lip hard, nodding with cheeks straining against a smile. "You're so smart." He ruffled her hair and ended up being smacked with her pudding spoon.

"Do you know how long this maid tears at my hair to get it into this shape? No-" Smack. "You-" Smack. "Don't! Half an hour! Each day!"

"It is worth every minute," Alessandro smiled at her. The up-do was lovely, dozens of small braids wrapped around her crown like a halo, little strands escaping in soft waves.

"It is not." Laelia pouted. "This is dick induced ignorance."

Alessandro choked on his water.

Giacinto slowly glared at Lorenzo. "Lorenzo, dear?"

Lorenzo looked slightly terrified. "Giacinto, darling?"

"Would you like to explain how she knows such words?"

"I would not." Lorenzo shook his head quickly. "I mean I couldn't. I have no idea. She must've heard it on the streets somewhere."

Alessandro was cornered by children. "How about we all just eat."

"How about I sew your mouth shut?" There was a playful twinkle in Giacinto's eyes. It had become rare these past weeks, always drowned in harsh snarls, strong liquors and strangers' hands.

Giacinto was doing better.

Alessandro raised a lazy brow. "Can you even reach it?"

A messenger saved Alessandro from being stabbed. Hurried steps sounded a moment before a servant bowed his way through the gauzy curtains. "A letter, my lord."

Alessandro recognized the seal of the bishop's see. Giacinto's face turned cold.

"What is it?" Lorenzo leaned forward. "Is everything alright –"

"Yes. Of course. This noon we're to meet with De Vito on the market square."

That was it. The solution. One more puzzle piece. Perhaps the only one that had been missing. It could be over. He could solve this. Just a few more hours.

It was smart. In the middle of a crowded square, in broad daylight – the Reaper couldn't get the old bishop there. And on such short notice, no one had a chance of finding out.

No one said a word. Laelia looked hopeful, Lorenzo frowned with worry, Giacinto's face remained empty. Suspicion crawled up Alessandro's back again. He fought it down. And then he dragged it up again.

He couldn't let his guard down. Not with a man like this.

He cursed himself. He wasn't just letting his guard down. He was closing his eyes to reasonable doubt. There were questions, too many questions, questions he never followed. Alessandro never gave anyone the benefit of the doubt. He was hard, he was precise -- but Giacinto .... Giacinto shattered him.

Alessandro couldn't read him. It should make him more suspicious, and it did, but between the flares of suspicion and their fights, he had fallen sick with the terrible need to keep this sharp, dangerous man safe.

He had always assumed his curiosity, his need for answers would -- now literally -- get him impaled on the Reaper's scythe. Now it might just be his blind spot Giacinto. And it might just be not a scythe, but a knife.

"Oh look!" Laelia dragged him out of his doubts.

There was another envelope. It looked a bit odd, something round and bumpy in it. A small wet spot in the corner. Alessandro caught Laelia's nervous smile.

Giacinto pulled out a purple hyacinth.

Laelia wrung her hands. "I'm really sorry," she mumbled to her lap. "I said something really stupid. I am really stupid."

Giacinto sighed. "Aren't we all." He got up, careful fingers gathering the flower. "I – Let's not have this conversation here."

Laelia squealed in delight, launching herself out of her seat and onto his arm, dragging him outside. She was practically floating, her chitter-chatter fading behind the curtains.

Lorenzo chuckled. "She's been chewing my ear off for the past days."

Alessandro smiled warmly. He turned to Lorenzo and the warmth rapidly cooled. "Why are you here?"

Lorenzo's smile fell. "I – well, I –"

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. Then he cursed himself. He was so bad at this.

"I – I felt bad for yesterday?"

"Why would you feel bad --"

"Because I just left like that! I didn't even say anything I just – " Lorenzo looked down. "I didn't even give you your goodbye kiss. It's – you're the type to overthink everything."

"Thank you."

"No, no. I always give you a kiss on the cheek and after you tell me this, I suddenly don't? You must've though I was disgusted. Or ... I don't know."

"You don't know what you meant?"

"Because I didn't mean anything! I was just confused, but when I realized, I couldn't just run out again – well, I wanted to, I thought my father was back in Venice again, but he wasn't and when he saw me at the door, I ..." Lorenzo looked torn. "I couldn't."

"So you ran here first thing in the morning?" It was barely past eight.

"I told him I had an urgent business meeting before work." Lorenzo averted his eyes.

Alessandro's heart weighed heavy in his chest. "Lorenzo." He was surprised by how rough his own voice was. It sounded almost foreign. "Lorenzo."

Lorenzo's head snapped back up, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. "Am I forgiven?"

"No."

Lorenzo's face fell.

"There's nothing to forgive. Except," Alessandro carefully picked his next words, "For what I did. If you can. I'm sorry for ruining that evening. I don't – you deserved to know."

"I did. Now you can't doubt this. I know what you did, I'm still here. I still want to be here. With you."

Alessandro swallowed, hard. "... it was lovely, apart from that."

Lorenzo's smile was brilliant, sending Alessandro's heart fluttering like the first rays of sunlight a butterfly after a cold night. "And just so you know, I'm glad you told me. That was brave."

Alessandro slowly shook his head. "I'm a coward, Lorenzo. I'll never be like you. You're bold and bright and –"

"And?"

"Beautiful," Alessandro breathed.

Lorenzo was around the table in an instant, Alessandro barely able to look up before Lorenzo's mouth crashed against his. He didn't have time to think about how only a thin fabric, rose bushes and butterfly wings hid them. He didn't have time to think about what this right now just meant, what they were. He didn't have time to ruin this with thinking, Lorenzo burnt it all away.

He could only curl his fingers into Lorenzo's shoulder and pull him closer, could only focus on the rough skin of Lorenzo's fingers brush against his neck, his jaw, his cheek until they were cradling his face, could only feel the slide of lips against lips in sync with the hammering of his heart.

Lorenzo's nose brushed against his when he pulled away to suck in a shuddered breath. Alessandro shifted to get up, needed to pull Lorenzo against him, couldn't stand the space between them -- Lorenzo's hands slid to his shoulder, pressing him down into the seat again. Alessandro opened his mouth, cut of by Lorenzo straddling him on the chair, one hand smoothing down his chest, the other returning to his cheek.

They were the same height like this. Lorenzo's blue eyes were wide, burning into Alessandro. "Kiss me."

Alessandro did. His lips found Lorenzo's, softly, somehow still hesitant, as if his hands hadn't wrapped around Lorenzo's hips to draw him closer, as if Lorenzo hadn't just kissed all reason out of him.

As if they had to ask what Alessandro was too afraid to – will you have me, even if I can't be brave?

As if they had to promise to never do to Lorenzo what he had done to Daniele.

As if they had to tell Lorenzo, that even if he had doubted it last night when he had been alone, trapped in moonlight and memories, that Lorenzo wasn't just gorgeous, easy and available.

Lorenzo seemed to sense the emotions swirling in Alessandro, because he was just as gentle, fingers curling into the hair at the back of Alessandro's head, his other hand resting innocently on his chest, his lips so soft, so sure.

Alessandro pulled back, resting his forehead against Lorenzo's. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"I don't know." Alessandro brought up a hand to brush an escaped strand back behind Lorenzo's ear. "You?"

Lorenzo laughed. Then he leant up to press a small kiss onto Alessandro's cheek. "There. Forgot to yesterday."

Alessandro didn't quite trust himself to speak. How could this man be so lovely?

"I – uh," Lorenzo shifted in his lap, glancing sideways. "Probably bad timing, but ... ever since ... at that tavern we met?"

The warm, crooked tavern of Alessandro's buried past. Daniele had been there that evening, had followed him out, had to furiously kneel for Giacinto's drunken darkness.

"You were so kind to me. You didn't quite know me, other than from that one time back at Lia's. I haven't – god, that is so bad." Lorenzo dropped his head into the crook of Alessandro's neck. "Haven't been with anyone ever since," he muttered.

Alessandro pulled back so fast the chair almost fell backwards with them. "You –"

Lorenzo shook his head. "Whatever you're saying now I can't hear you over the sound of my own pitifullness. Lord strike me mute."

Alessandro chuckled. "I'm flattered."

"I'm not."

"Continue?"

"Kissing or talking about me being pathetic? I'd rather prefer the first, if I have any say in it."

"Don't be so dramatic." Alessandro rolled his eyes. Lorenzo looked back up at him with an offended gasp. "I meant continue not being with anyone..." Alessandro's eyes raked over Lorenzo's face, the blond lashes, the deep blue eyes, the soft curve of his cheekbones. "Else."

Lorenzo's breath caught. He nodded quickly. "Please."

Alessandro wasn't sure who had moved first, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was Lorenzo pressed against his chest and his lips never leaving Alessandro's. It was still soft at first, but when Lorenzo carefully traced his tongue against Alessandro's lips, as if testing unknown waters, they were lost.

Alessandro's hands ran up Lorenzo's side, teeth catching his bottom lip, heat curling at the soft groan answering him.

A bell chimed in the distance, low echoes of time hanging in the air. Lorenzo was off of him in an instant, straightening his shirt, tugging the cape back in place. "Shit," he muttered, "Shit."

Alessandro blinked the dizziness away, taking a deep breath. "What's wrong? Did I –"

"No, no, you're perfect." Lorenzo quickly shook his head, cheeks flushed. "I should be at the office now. If my father – shit." He dragged a hand over his face, but shot Alessandro a smile. "You're very distracting."

"Thank you?"

Lorenzo laughed, but it sounded nervous. He hesitated. "Walk me there?"

Alessandro furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll just say the meeting took longer. You could pass as that merchant – no, he can't see you. He'll recognize you. Dammit, why do you have to be famous?"

"I'm hardly –"

"A five year old would recognize you. And you're still wanted for murder and conspiracy. I like your head, do try to keep it." Lorenzo winked. "And don't look at me like that. I'm not known for my will power."

"I'm not –"

Lorenzo pulled him down for another quick kiss, muffling the rest of Alessandro's sentence. "Definitely no will power," he murmured against Alessandro's lips.

Lorenzo pried himself off, grinned and held one of the curtains aside for Alessandro. "Now hurry before I get other ideas."

"Lorenzo."

"And keep the beard."

Alessandro's hand flew up to his jaw. He hadn't gotten to shave after another night in a bloody armchair. He must look like a barbarian.

"Or maybe don't keep it. I may have to jump you otherwise."

Alessandro coughed. "Don't say such things."

"Would you rather have me do such things?"

"Lorenzo!"

Lorenzo just laughed at Alessandro's horrified expression, linking their arms and sauntering out into the sunlight.

The reaper had to reschedule. I felt like Alessandro needed to talk this out with Lorenzo.

Who's going to die next chapter? I'll dedicate the chapter to the winner.

Who's your favorite ship/friendship in this?

Thank you for being so wonderful and taking the time to read about Alessandro's (gay) panics and Gio's creative death threats! You guys mean the world to me!

Stay lovely,

Avis