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“You have to learn to let it go Desmond,” Ezio chided, leaning his hip against the wall by the door while he waited for his roommate to get out his keys. He had his arms folded over his chest and was watching with amusement as Desmond cursed to himself, trying to find the right key in the dark hallway. “You can’t keep bringing up the past, it’ll only weigh you down in the future.”
Desmond shot him a glare as he juggled his books in one hand and the literal key to his salvation in the other. “Cut the wise act, I’m allowed to complain about how you completely embarrassed me the other night at the bar-“
“I didn’t mean to Dezzy,” Ezio pouted, pulling out his best set of puppy eyes. As Desmond snorted at him, Ezio reached out and took Desmond’s books which allowed Desmond to finally be able to properly focus on the keys, though he was still busy arguing with the other man.
“-which is where I work, and my boss wasn’t really happy with me and the show you decided to put on for everyone-“
“I would think he would be happier, since I brought him a lot of business,” Ezio interrupted again, a smirk blooming on his face. “In fact, I know that’s the most tips you’ve gotten in one night in a while-“
“You can’t do a strip tease at the bar!” Desmond hissed, finally getting the door open and stalking inside, still looking at Ezio and trying to get it through his skull that public indecency at his place of employment was a sure-fire way to get him fired, and then who would buy Ezio food all the time?
“I only took off my shirt, I left my pants on!” Ezio protested, placing Desmond’s books on the coffee table while looking around to see if Altair or Arno were home.
Desmond threw his hands up in the air, heading into the kitchen. “You’re lucky he didn’t call the cops on you, he could’ve easily- What the fuck!?”
At Desmond’s outburst, Ezio raced over as quickly as he could, worried something horrible had happened. When he joined Desmond at the doorway, however, he immediately saw what had caused Desmond’s sudden exclamation and his eyes widened, trying to process the scene in front of him.
Altair, from his position on the floor facing away from them, looked over his shoulder at the pair with a paintbrush in his mouth. On anyone else the sight would look hilarious, but with Altair the scene took on a grisly quality as Ezio spotted the canvas on the floor in front of him, various colors splashed all along it and on Altair’s clothing. There was a gleam in his eyes that Ezio couldn’t quite understand, though it did lend Altair what Desmond would call a “murder vibe”. In fact, the whole situation very much resembled a crime scene; there was even a smear of red along Altair’s cheek.
The occupants of the kitchen were all frozen for a few moments, the only movement being red paint steadily dripping to the floor from the paintbrush still clenched between Altair’s teeth.
The moment was broken by Ezio, unable to handle the silence anymore. “So you finally snapped Alty? What would poor Leonardo say about your treatment of the arts?”
Altair glared at Ezio, slowly reaching up and taking the paintbrush out of his mouth, placing it within the cup of paint Ezio hadn’t noticed on the floor before turning around to face them.
“You two were supposed to be at the library,” Altair muttered, looking around the room and avoiding looking at his two roommates. Ezio narrowed his eyes for a moment before something occurred to him, shifting his whole world view once more.
“Oh, Alty,” Ezio crooned, immediately making Altair tense up and glare at him again. “Are you embarrassed?”
Altair immediately bristled, and Desmond held his hands up placatingly to forestall him from murdering Ezio right then and there and adding to the mess. “We just didn’t expect to see you…painting is all,” Desmond said, elbowing Ezio in the ribs. Ezio squawked indignantly at the treatment.
Eyes narrowed, Altair crossed his arms over his chest, which smeared the paint even more all over his shirt.
“Why? Do you think me incapable of doing something like painting?” Altair challenged, still managing to look intimidating while on the floor and covered by paint with a smattering of paintbrushes and cans around him.
Ezio rolled his eyes and shook his head, huffing. “Don’t be coy, you know the reputation you’ve cultivated over the years; you’re very careful about that sort of thing.”
Hopping onto the kitchen counter, Ezio’s face softened. “We don’t think less of you for painting, and there’s nothing wrong with it. We just weren’t expecting to come in and see you reenacting Frankenstein.”
Desmond snorted, and Altair whipped his head over to him. Desmond waved an arm at the scene before him. “Come on, you’ve made kind of a mess and you did look like Dexter when we walked in.”
Reaching out and snagging a paper towel laying nearby, Altair started to rub at the paint on his hands. “Sometimes I get a little…carried away,” he muttered, once again refusing to meet their eyes. Ezio kicked his feet out from his place on the counter and smiled down at Altair on the floor.
“Can we see it?” He asked, clasping his hands in front of him and once more trying his puppy dog eyes on for size, although he knew it wouldn’t influence Altair in the least.
Altair pursed his lips together, the scar on his mouth standing in stark relief on his face. He glanced over at Desmond who was also now utilizing his patented begging expression, and then rolled his eyes. “Not now,” he said, then continued to talk over their disappointed groans. “Maybe one day, though I’m not making any promises. It’s kind of personal.”
Tossing his head back dramatically, Ezio sighed. “Fine, fine, fine, we’ll leave you alone about your art, right Daddy?”
Desmond, who had been about to agree with Ezio, choked on his own tongue while Altair’s eyebrows shot up. Desmond rubbed his face with his hands before glaring at Ezio through his fingers. “Ezio, please, for the love of fuck, stop calling me that.”
Ezio batted his eyelashes at Desmond, trying to look like the picture of innocence and failing spectacularly based on the virtue of being himself. He huffed a laugh when Desmond just continued to give him an unimpressed look. “I wouldn’t call you it if it didn’t get such a funny reaction out of you.”
“It’s true,” Altair mused, tilting his head slightly in Ezio’s direction. “He does it to mess with you.”
“Yeah I know that, doesn’t mean I don’t want it to stop,” Desmond threw his keys at Ezio, who spluttered and batted them out of the way.
“Hey, didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to throw things at people-“
“You deserve it and you know it asshole-“
“Will the two of you stop arguing like children for fuck’s sake-“
“Hey guys I’m back!” They hear Arno’s voice call out from the living room, the sound of paper bags crinkling making them all stop what they were doing and turn to look eagerly in that direction.
“Hey man, what’d you bring?” Desmond asked, wanting to move on from the previous conversation and eyeing Ezio, who was back to grinning innocently, with distrust.
“I just picked some takeout up, figured you guys wouldn’t say no even if you’d already eaten,” Arno replied, his voice drawing closer as he made his way over to the kitchen. “I went to our favorite place-“ he stopped suddenly at the door, taking in the scene in front of him. Ezio on the counter, Altair standing in front of a huge mess and covered in paint, and Desmond with his hands on his hips in front of the two. Slowly, Arno placed the bags he was carrying on the table, still staring at the others.
“What the hell? No one got hurt right?”
“Yeah we’re all fine, we were just discussing Alty’s love of the arts earlier, don’t worry about it,” Ezio answered, waving his hand negligently and causing Altair’s glare to once more turn on him.
Sighing, Desmond started to rummage through the bags Arno had brought in. “It’s a long story, let’s just eat guys.”
Altair started walking over before Desmond pointed at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Not you buddy boy, clean up your mess since you were the one who decided to reinterpret War and Peace in the kitchen.”
Altair rolled his eyes, but did start to pick up his mess, being careful to keep his actual painting hidden from the others. Ezio hopped down from the counter and started to help him by picking up the cans of paint littered everywhere. Arno raised an eyebrow at Desmond in silent question, and Desmond sighed. “I really don’t think you want to know man.”
Arno shrugged and went to get plates from the cabinet. “Fair enough. I’m used to such things around you guys by now anyway.”
This of course received a round of “Hey!”s from the others, but that was only to be expected.