Work Text:
It started with a kiss.
Napoleon was back from a solitary mission. He had actually missed his partners like crazy, so he decided to stop by. On the way to Ilya’s apartment – Gaby was sure to be there so he would catch two birds with one stone – he practiced a perfect one-liner to use as a greeting.
The phrase he wanted to employ was ‘Honey, I’m home’. It was bound to irritate the hell out of Peril and Gaby would actually get it and giggle. Funny one-liners were Napoleon’s specialty, even if they came pre-prepared on occasion. One did not just come with gems like ‘take it like a pussy’.
No sound was coming through the door, so he took a set of lock-picks and entered.
Ilya and Gaby sat on the couch apparently in the middle of a staring contest. When they saw Napoleon, they exchanged a strange look, which Solo would translate later and with a hindsight as ‘Go ahead’ and ‘Fine’. Ilya stood from the couch, came all the way into Napoleon’s space, took his chin and then just… he just… kissed him. On the mouth. Napoleon’s jaw has fallen open in shock, which Ilya used to deepen the kiss. He tasted of strong tea with a hint of sugar, his mouth was warm and Napoleon had closed his eyes… His briefcase dropped out of his hand and made a thud as it connected with a floor.
“Sorry, Cowboy”, Ilya said, sounding anything but. He turned to Gaby, gave her a nod and just went to his bedroom, resolutely closing it behind him.
“What the hell was that?” Napoleon asked.
“We made a bet”, Gaby shrugged as if it was the easy funny thing, while Napoleon felt like his world has been turned upside-down.
“What were the stakes?”
“No stakes. I just told him he could not do it. But he did”.
XXX
Second kiss came several months later. By then Napoleon got so distracted by Ilya, it started to affect their work. Even during a mission, his attention would be on his partner’s eyes for a moment, when he would think of the way Peril moved, his broad shoulders, his stupid cap, his warm smile, his mouth… and it all circled back to that kiss.
He knew he was behaving like a girl with a first crush, but just could not help it.
Ilya was looking at him somewhat worried from time to time, but said nothing.
Napoleon even came to Gaby to lament, but she was quite insensitive, Napoleon thought, considering the stupid bet was her idea.
Her advice was ‘to talk’ and how idiotic was that? What would Napoleon even say? ‘One kiss was all it took for me to notice, how badly I am infatuated with you. Kiss me again; kiss me anywhere you want. Or let me kiss you, put my mouth all over you’.
Even in his mind that sounded pathetic.
Therefore, Napoleon was going to wallow in his misery, thank you very much.
Then came the day, when Ilya approached him all of the sudden and said:
“You’re distracted lately. I asked Waverly and he said you and I must take a vacation. Pack the bags”.
Napoleon was not sure it was a good idea. However, vacation was always a rare treat in their line of work, so they had indeed packed and flew to Sicily. Only when they entered the room, something had occurred to him. He thought the woman at the reception, judging by the nasty way she looked at them, thought them to be mafia boss and his guard, and was sure to give them the adjoining rooms. However, this was not the case. There was one room, one – huge – bed. Sea breeze filling the space. Shades mostly closed to keep the sun away, a vase with white roses on the side table… It was all very romantic.
He stood there stupidly, which was not like him at all.
Ilya took his bag, put it aside and hugged him from behind.
“You’re are distracted all the time and you distract me. We need to work it out”.
When came the second kiss, to the side of Napoleon’s neck and he thought ‘oh’.
XXX
Now when Napoleon has gotten Ilya in bed – or vice versa – does not matter, he wants to do it all – the good, the bad and the dirty. That is how he finds himself on his back; Ilya’s knees spread on both sides of his shoulders, his hands on Ilya’s buttocks, controlling his movements. Up and down. And Napoleon opens his mouth wide, so he can suck on Ilya’s balls, roll them around with his tongue, moan and hum, while Ilya above him gives such a colorful string of profanities, Napoleon is almost – almost – moved to stop and ask him to repeat. Still learning some new Russian words will have to wait. He has a different task: to eliminate their mutual distraction.
Later when they lay side-by-side and Ilya has the incredulous expression of someone who just had a taste of Western depravity at its best (and Napoleon is the best), all is well with the world. Sex is almost as good as… It is something he is allowed to have with Ilya, at least for a short while.
“You don’t have to be this fancy, Cowboy”, Ilya mumbles. His blond hair sticks to his forehead, soaked with sweat. He is lovely.
“Well, I figured we need to try everything on the menu, since it’s the only time we…” Napoleon trails off, when Ilya looks at him incredulously.
“Wait. You want to only do it once?”
“No, I… You said it was to work on our mutual distraction. I figured it was some sort of dirty week… So I – we – don’t fuck the missions up”.
“You thought I was sleeping with you to do my job better!?”
Napoleon is a bit thrown off, on second thought this is not something Ilya would ever do, but he…
“You kissed me on a bet, you brought me here, so I figured it was curiosity and a work diligence combined, not that I mind…”
“I mind!” Ilya shouts and he is furious now, and Napoleon is so sorry they started this, he knew nothing good ever comes of talking.
“And it was not a bet”, Ilya says. “It was a declaration of intent”.
“What?” Napoleon feels so warm.
“We were listening to a radio. There was this song, ‘It’s in His Kiss’”.
Betty Everett. ‘If you wanna know if he loves you so…’ Napoleon knows this one, catchy and fun; it is a real earworm.
“So Gaby told me that it was the perfect way to check…”
“But later you just watched me and did not say anything. So I had to do something,” Ilya sounds resigned.
“So this vacation was more of this declaration of intent?”
“Of course,” Ilya says and Napoleon decides it is ok to be vulnerable for a bit.
“I’m an idiot, Ilya,” he says.
“I thought my actions speak for themselves,” Ilya answers. “I’m an idiot as well, clearly”.
“No, I… could you kiss me again? If you don’t mind that I…” Obviously, it would be better to kiss if Napoleon did not have Ilya’s balls in his mouth a little while ago, but here they are.
Ilya looks at him. Napoleon blushes. Sex is easy; this – here – is difficult.
Ilya smiles. Then comes the third kiss.