"You kissed him?!" Seungyoun's indignant gasp had his cat lift her head from Wooyoung's lap to glare at him. Wooyoung pet her soothingly, copying her glare. Then he had to giggle.

"I didn't kiss kiss him. It was just on the cheek." Wooyoung tapped the corner of his own mouth to show where he had kissed Yeosang. Seungyoun's lips dropped open further.

"That's not the cheek!" He screeched like a flabbergasted lady from the 19th century. Wooyoung waved it off and plopped another raisin in his mouth. Their taste reminded him of Ada and Yeosang.

Seungyoun watched him with a grimace of disgust from the sidelines. Just to bother him, Wooyoung chewed with his mouth open.

"I wouldn't have slept with him. He was just too cute to resist. He knew I was just passing through and unavailable. Me leaving gave him the option to act without having to be embarrassed after if something went wrong. His consent was in his teasing back," Wooyoung concluded the matter. Seungyoun still looked at him like a disappointed mum, but he didn't bite back anymore.

When Wooyoung dug his hand into his pocket, Seungyoun abandoned the theatre and watched him curiously. Upon laying eyes on the silver hair accessory in Wooyoung's palms, his eyes lit up.

"You found it. It was between the folds of your tunic when you returned. A different tunic than the one I gave you, by the way."

"Yeah, they redressed me for the ritual. It was my smallest concern. Thank you for picking it up for me." Wooyoung eyed the old jewellery that had withstood time to effortlessly. Usually, he would have to put something like that into their museum, but they had enough of those trinkets. This one was all his.

"Do you think it belongs to San?" Seungyoun crossed his legs. At Wooyoung's faint nod, a smile spread on his face.

"How about you wear it? You two can't exchange sweaters, but you could wear this for him. I know how to braid it into your hair," Seungyoun offered. As soon as Wooyoung lifted his hand to give him the pearl without having to stir up the cat, Seungyoun jumped to his feet. Like a gleeful overgrown kobold, he shuffled behind Wooyoung with giggles spilling from his lips.

Wooyoung put his elbow on the armrest on the couch to rest his chin in his hand while Seungyoun's fingers tugged and braided at his hair.

"Maybe I should bring him something in return. Without telling him why. What accessory would withstand time well? Leather suits him but it's impractical."

"How about a pendant? He can wear it and combine it with whatever chain currently in trend," Seungyoun suggested. His fingertips massaged Wooyoung's scalp while he did his hair. Wooyoung's eyes fluttered threateningly.

"I don't want him to lose it."

"A cockring, then."

Wooyoung was about to launch his cat at the man, but Seungyoun jumped away from him with a high-pitched squeal. Only when Wooyoung had rolled his eyes and settled down again, Seungyoun's hands returned to his hair.

"Sighing like a lovesick maid. I miss joking around with you. But how about an earring or a regular ring then?"

Wooyoung hummed. He was pretty sure that Suusaandar had worn heavy golden earrings. If San still had the piercings, that could work. He would keep his eyes open for one suiting the man.

When Seungyoun was done with his hair, he stepped back proudly. The weight of the pearl was barely noticeable but just heavy enough that Wooyoung didn't have to search when he reached for it. He felt over the pretty braid at the side of his head and grinned at Seungyoun in gratitude. Delighted, the man snatched a few hazelnuts from the trail mix in the bowl next to Wooyoung and sat down on his couch again.

His cat purred under Wooyoung's fingers.

"So next, Florence. You'll meet him there?"

"Yes. What outfit will you give me this time? I want to look pretty for him."

Seungyoun pulled the bag closer, that had been resting by his side on the couch since earlier. The noise of the zipper startled his cat away finally. With a grumble, she took off towards the man's bedroom while Wooyoung dusted the orange fur off his jeans.

Seungyoun handed him his outfit. This one was long again, and decorated with brocade that just got popular in the extravagant luxury of the Italian Renaissance. The dark tunic and the matching black pants came with a heavy dark-green coat that had fur and chain accessories dangling from it.

And another beret, but with a feather this time.

"Pretend you are a lord with a ton of money, or else da Vinci will view you as a waste of his time. From what we learned about him, he wasn't the most polite fellow."

Da Vinci was on the list of historical figures loved for their work that were horrible people. Right next to Mother Teresa and Gandhi. Wooyoung hoped his apprentice would be more lenient with them.

Then again, San would have lived in Florence for a while by the time they met. Wooyoung could trust his knowledge as a local.

"Got it. I'll pretend as if I were a dragon with an entire mountain full of gold that just waited to be turned into boring paintings."

Seungyoun snickered at him.

"Give it some time. By the time art schools are around, the taste gets better, too," he soothed Wooyoung. Not that either of them was a big art-lover. Wooyoung liked his animes and games and Seungyoun was a sports type of person.

"Tell Yongguk I said hi," Seungyoun grinned when Wooyoung gathered his clothes to be on his way to the institute. Wooyoung saluted him and already slipped into his shoes when his friend called after him again.

"And bring me a gift!"

"Got it!"

Wooyoung left Seungyoun's flat to go straight to the institute. On his way, he pondered getting San a gift before he left, but he would take his time with that. If he rushed, he wouldn't be satisfied with what he gave the man; he didn't want that.

Yongguk wasn't in his bureau for once. Confused by the thought that Yongguk wasn't glued to the chair, Wooyoung searched the institute for him. He found the other man on the second floor where he was busy carefully putting a fossil Seungyoun had collected on his last trip into a glass shelf. When he noticed Wooyoung coming closer, his lips lifted in a distracted grin.

"Off to Florence?"

"Yep, I came to say bye. And I also have a request for you."

Yongguk set the object down and dusted his gloved hands off before he closed the glass lid. His bony fingers gingerly screwed the corners shut.

"What request?"

"Could you look into San? It must have got harder for him to hide his identity over the past two centuries and I want to know where he is. Maybe I could meet him here."

Yongguk nodded and brushed his dark curls out of his face.

"Good idea. I'll see what I can find. He's probably around here somewhere if he didn't switch to America. If he went to Asia, the institute there would have found him and waved him around already." A low chuckle sounded from Yongguk's chest. Wooyoung beamed at him.

"Thank you. Then, see you later."

"Take care."

Wooyoung skipped back down the stairs to get ready for his next trip. His clothes were easy to sort out and only a while later, he stood like a rich noble under the weight of his clothes. He already knew his shoulders would groan at him later.

Wooyoung comforted himself with the thought that San probably knew how to free him of these mountains of fabric in under thirty seconds.

Humming, Wooyoung taped his remote to his body. He looked forward to seeing San soon and spending so much time with him. Wooyoung didn't consider himself weak, but no matter how much he studied the past, it would never be a surrounding he felt entirely secure in. With San, who lived this life always, Wooyoung felt protected. (And, despite how Seungyoun would argue, more focused on his work.)

Wooyoung stepped through the door to Florence with new confidence. The alchemy he had discussed with Yeosang before would likely come into play again with da Vinci. Maybe San had found something else, too, that he could tell Wooyoung about.

Once more, he had forgotten to ask Yongguk if time travel would be possible for San once they found him in the present. Wooyoung would love to find his roots and help the man find out the cause behind his immortality. Once they had discovered him, Wooyoung would ask. He couldn't be far. By now, he probably remembered Wooyoung and his occupation well enough that he also searched for the institute.

On the last of March in 1490, Wooyoung stepped out of a house and into a little alley. It was just borderline shady, dark enough for dubious shadows to linger around, but bright enough in the day that Wooyoung doubted they would attack him.

Wooyoung squared his shoulders and tipped his head back. With his nose in the air so his act of nobility matched his task, he strode out of the alley.

He was in a residential area of Florence. The clock on the enormous tower in the distance read five in the afternoon. The streets were busy with people on their way to dinner. Wooyoung wove through them and nodded at those who acknowledged him; mostly city guards and other colourfully dressed people.

Florence was already a city of the rich and the artists. Wooyoung didn't see a single person clothed in rags. If slaves were around, they were dressed well enough to blend in, or they used the alleys as to not inconvenience the rich people.

Wooyoung oriented himself on the clock tower in his search for the town square. He was too busy finding his way to marvel at the pretty buildings that had grown from the ancient Faesulum. Some Roman ruins had withstood the decay of time well and the newer architecture matched the ancient pillars that reminded Wooyoung of something.

He also spared no time to think about da Vinci or where to find him and his helper. San might know already.

When Wooyoung finally reached the town square, he had hoped to catch a breather, but the area around the huge fountain brimmed with people. All the streets of the city seemed to cross here and people passed by without order to find their paths.

It was impossible to find anyone.

Wooyoung elbowed his way through the people and dodged the pretty women with complicated styles in their dark hair to get to the fountain. Lost, he trailed around it once. A few children played at it, unbothered by the people. Their squeals added to the overwhelming amount of noise filtering into Wooyoung's ears. The water they splashed at each other rippled over the shiny coins at the bottom of the fountain.

Wooyoung was too warm in his clothes. They had the right thickness for the chilly days of spring, but not for diving into a crowd.

Once he had fought his way back to the sidelines again, Wooyoung breathed a relieved sigh. He went to lean on a wall and try to get an overview of the people.

Oh, if only he would have brought bright pink hair dye to recognise San with.

Glum, Wooyoung stood at the wall until his heartbeat had calmed. Maybe if he waited a bit, the people would thin out. But he feared San would leave if he didn't show up.

This was stupid. They were in the same area and couldn't find each other.

Grumbling about how late phones got invented, Wooyoung made his way around the square. He hoped that he and San didn't think of a different place back in Nottingham, and that San had found the time to come.

Wooyoung's anxiety rose with every step that he took without finding San. He went paranoid in his fear about having been forgotten and needing to challenge Florence by himself, after all.

Before he could dwindle into panic, however, he spotted a familiar figure leaned against the wall of an upcoming building. His dark hair fanned over his forehead as he watched the crowd with a pensive expression. The pout was back on his lips.

When he turned his head as if wondering if he should also start walking to search around, their eyes met.

Within a second, all of Wooyoung's fear evaporated. His pace quickened until he jogged on the path clear of people right along the buildings.

San came to meet him and stretched out his arms so Wooyoung could throw himself into them.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung did and buried his nose in the red tunic the man wore. He heard San chuckle above him. Willingly, Wooyoung stumbled along when he was pulled in the alley behind them. Unbothered by the masses, they hugged out their reunion.

Wooyoung had come home from Nottingham not a week ago. And yet he had missed San as if he had been the one waiting through centuries.

"Hello, Wooyoung," San muttered into his hair. His Italian was melodic and oh so attractive to Wooyoung's ears. He squeaked into the man's shoulder.

"I couldn't find you; for a moment I thought you died of the Plague." Wooyoung hugged him tighter to ensure himself that the man was here. San laughed, and the noise vibrated in his chest.

"Thankfully, I didn't. I took a detour to the south for that. You didn't miss out on anything."

Wooyoung giggled before he pulled back to look at the man. His hair was mussed up and when San reached out to push the lost strands back into place, his fingers caught onto Wooyoung's hair accessory. Something flashed in his eyes when he twisted it between his fingers. Then a smirk curled around his lips.

"So you have the time to accompany me anywhere?"

As if they saw each other for the first time, Wooyoung studied his features. San had a scar on his brow now, one that hadn't been there before. It took nothing away from his beauty.

"Wherever you want. Although I suggest we go to my home for the evening and catch up first," San purred.

With a grin, Wooyoung pulled back to slip his hand into San's. They were rough from holding weapons for so long, but his grip was soft on Wooyoung's.

"Then lead the way."

San followed that order gladly.