fess up, vico

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While Adamo certainly had a habit of keeping people waiting, he was still a man of his word. He and Vico didn't have any missions to worry about for a good few days, so he took the opportunity to buy that wine he had mentioned to his partner a few weeks back. (Their previous missions had actually treated him pretty well, financially, but that was probably because he had sticky fingers when handling the nobler targets.) Vico had picky tastes, though, and the bottle he bought probably wasn't up to his par, but it would have to do. It wasn't the cheapest, nor the most expensive.

"Vico?" Adamo called as he emerged from the tunnel entrance, turning the corner. The bureau was always quiet by midday, the assassins usually away doing their assigned duties. (Except for a few unlucky ones in the armory who were cleaning. They must've angered Machiavelli.)

Comments

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Adamo barely dodged the rock, but the stumbling back made him trip right onto the ground with a thud. His head fell back onto a rock anyway.

"I did nothing!" he complained huffily, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head with a groan. "Except bring up Emiliana."

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"Figlio di puttana," Vico swore under his breath, never having had the most sparkly clean of mouths, as he pulled himself up from the rubble he had upset during his fall and brushing his civilian clothes off. Once again, he began the climb upwards, more nimble this time, being that it was the second go at it. "You better not be trying anything with Emiliana. She's not as barbaric as you and that she-man Bianca. She probably doesn't have any interest in that kind of thing." He paused, as he pulled himself up to the top of the broken pillar again, turning to sit on the uneven but stable surface, kicking off stray pieces of debris in his friend's direction. "You know, I asked her once, what she thought of you, and she said you 'seemed nice.'"

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Adamo sat for a moment longer, again watching him climb to make sure he wouldn't really try to assassinate him, standing when it seemed safe. Vico's fall could've been a fluke, but his protesting only confirmed his suspicions.

"I am nice," he said with a scoff, dusting his own clothes off. "And I wouldn't try anything with her. Not when my fratello likes her."

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Another rock, so swiftly that one would have to wonder if Vico had it on hand just in case Adamo said something like that. "Watch what you are saying, idiota!"

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That time, the rock hit Adamo square in the shoulder, and he reeled back a step.

"Maybe you should watch your rocks, bastardo," he groaned, rubbing the spot. Adamo glared back up at him. "And I meant it! You like her, don't you? I wouldn't mess that up for you."

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Vico snubbed his nose down at Adamo. "Oh? And how are you so sure that I do? What are you now, the cupid of Romagna and Assassin on the side?"

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"Maybe the way you so readily defended her, and the way you smiled like an idiota when talking to her," Adamo retorted, crossing his arms.

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He grew a little hot in the face. "Smiled? A mind-reader now, are you? You smile like that to half of Romagna, but I wouldn't say that you liked half of-"

He broke off, looking thoughtful.

...Actually.

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"No, but I can read faces just fine, amico. And what's that look for?"

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Rubbing his chin, Vico made a thoughtful humming sound. "I forgot that you do want to get in half of Romagna's pants."

lolol at this rate it'll be night by the time they practice

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"Hey, that's not true!" Adamo huffed, and with all the abuse, he considered jumping up there himself to give Vico a good hit with a rock. But then, he looked thoughtful. "...Actually..."

because vico is a retard teehee

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Before Adamo could finish the thought (one that Vico was relatively sure he knew the end to already), a sudden and heavy weight jumped down on him from above, pushing him onto his stomach on the ground. Vico's frame was not large or massive enough to constitute any injury from the fall, but with gravity on his side, it was more than enough to wind a man. A set of knuckles pressed into the back of Adamo's neck. "You sure are a distracted target. That was awfully easy."

oh yes i totally agree

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"Augh!" Adamo fell with hardly a flail, face squishing right into the ground. He tilted his head, trying to glare over his shoulder, his voice strained. "That was... completely uncalled for."

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Without letting up his weight quite yet, Vico raised a brow. "It was for your own good, fratello. If you were to think about all the people you wanted to sleep with in Romagna, you would be bones and dust by the time you were done."

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"Tch... Not true," he complained, beginning to toss about under the discomfort. "You can get off now."

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With a sigh, like it was such a chore, Vico lifted off of the other's back and drew himself to standing, brushing off his hands even though he hadn't been ground into the dirt. "That was hardly a turn, I feel a little cheated."

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Figured he'd receive physical and verbal abuse. Adamo was used to it by now, standing up with the ease of routine and dusting himself off in an almost too casual manner. By the end of this, he was sure his charcoal robes would be dirt colored.

"Fine, how about a moving target? One running away from you perhaps. Far away."

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Confusion graced Vico's face for a moment, and he held back, tilting his head toward Adamo. "I cannot air-assassinate a person if they are that far away," he said slowly. "And you cannot run that fast."

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He patted Vico on the shoulder. "It was a joke. I know either way my dear amico will find a way to abuse me." Adamo sighed at the prospect. "Anyway, ready when you are."

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"Wait!" A swift hand shot out, grabbing Adamo by the elbow before the other man could put a sizable difference between them. He looked awfully troubled for a moment, before his assassin's instinct told him to sweep that emotion away, hiding it underneath a carefully blank slate once again. It was a hard process for Vico, explosive and passionate about things he cared about in general, and even afterward, it was imperfect. His frown still remained, and his eyes kept darting to and fro, as if searching for an invisible eavesdropper. "Just...don't tell Emiliana, all right?"

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Adamo looked down at him, eyebrows high on his forehead. Even through knowing Vico so well and for so long, the man still surprised him with his less than subtle actions. With a smile, he took Vico's hand off his elbow, only to squeeze it with his own in a quick, promising shake, fists between them close to their hearts.

"Of course not," he answered. "I'm almost offended you didn't confide in me sooner."

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Vico looked affronted. "You don't tell me anything!"

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"I thought you never wanted to know," he said, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't like Adamo had romantic endeavors as much as one night encounters, after all.

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"If I asked you to tell me about every person you've bedded, I'd never finish hearing the end of it," Vico said, raising both brows back, slapping Adamo on the shoulder. "Something real, I meant. Something important."

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Adamo laughed at being hit again. Vico was setting a record at this rate. "What do you want to know? Romance stories?"