Leap of Faith
Napoleon Solo ran his hand over the masking tape and sighed. He'd been doing a lot of sighing as of late. He hated this sense of loss and the fear that the happiness he'd previously experienced would never come his way again. It was ridiculous, but that meant nothing. His rational mind said one thing, but, despite outward appearances, his mind wasn't always rational. Napoleon ran his hand over the tape, feeling the tactile difference between it and the smooth cardboard.
"Hmm?" Napoleon looked over at his partner and tried to muster up a smile. His attempt was only fair at best. "Nothing... not really."
"And now pull the other one." Illya Kuryakin wrapped the last piece of the nativity set in tissue paper. The set had belonged to Napoleon's mother and , while Illya had no real connection with the religious or even sentimental value of the set, it was important to his lover, so that made it important to Illya.
"Other one, what?"
"Leg. Napoleon, you have been moping for the past two days. What is wrong?"
"I'm bored. There's nothing worse than nothing to do."
"I can appreciate that." They'd been on light duty for the past three weeks and both men were ready to be back in the field. Sadly, they hadn't been able to convince Medical to see it their way. Napoleon still had weeks of physical therapy left and Illya was only now getting rid of the last of his stitches and splints. Neither man would see fieldwork for another month at least.
At first, it was nice to have a break and have the time to join in with the holiday bustle and craziness. Now, as January dragged on, both men's enthusiasm waned exponentially as the days crawled past.
"Thanks for helping me pack this stuff away." Napoleon glanced at the numerous boxes. "I didn't realize I had put so much stuff up. Some of this I hadn't seen in years."
"It's always nice to rediscover old treasures." Illya tucked the last shepherd into the box and reached for the masking tape. "And you should be thankful for this break. It may be many years before you will have the opportunity to see them again."
"We can only hope. It's not that I didn't enjoy the chance to celebrate the holidays along with everyone else, but the boredom is getting a little thick now." He smirked slightly. "Not that the company is lacking."
"Agreed." Illya finished his task and pushed the box aside. "Now what?"
"I'll get the maintenance crew to store these downstairs. I have a storage locker there."
"Napoleon this place would house three families in Moscow and you have even more space?"
"No use keeping this stuff up here when I rarely use it. I don't want it cluttering up the extra bedroom... in case."
"Someone wants to spend the night." Napoleon's eyes half closed as he studied his partner. "Say, someone... special." He cocked his head and his lips curled into a smile.
"If someone special was staying the night, the last place he would want to be would be in the guest room." Illya's response was matter-of-fact.
"Oh? Do tell." Napoleon felt a stirring from something that hadn't been all that interested until just now. That in itself was a relief. He'd never had a flagging libido before this last little go round with THRUSH. A very potent cocktail had effectively left him temporarily impotent... hopefully. It seemed like a year since anything had come to live beneath his belt buckle. "How special?"
Illya smiled slowly and stretched, dropping a hand to run it lightly over his stomach. "Mmm, it feels good to finally be free of all that restrictive gauze and tape."
"Do you do it on purpose or is it totally unconscious on your part?"
"That flirtatious nature of yours. It always seems to rear its head at inopportune moments."
"I have a flirtatious nature?" Illya licked his lips with just the tip of his tongue. "This comes as total news to me." He leaned back against the myriad of throw pillows that were stacked behind him, an open invitation. A moment later, Napoleon followed, pressing his body against Illya's. He was delighted as Illya splayed his legs and allowed Napoleon to settle between them. Illya's legs then wrapped themselves over Napoleon's locking him firmly in place. Another person and Napoleon would immediately have started to struggle, fighting to break the hold. But this was Illya, a man he trusted even more than he trusted himself. He rubbed his groin against Illya's, letting a little sigh of contentment escape as penis ground against penis.
"It's been a while, my love," Napoleon murmured and dipped in for a kiss. At first it was just the mere brushing of lips across lips. Then Illya's tongue snaked out, tickling its way into the moist heat of Napoleon's mouth.
Napoleon sucked it in greedily and then wrestled with it, rolling Illya's tongue over and over with his own. It had felt like years since they'd touched. At first it had been out of necessity as they healed. Then there were the mental issues and the very real fear Napoleon experienced when he'd taken Illya to bed and couldn't achieve an erection.
Illya had been patient and kind, but nothing had helped.
"I don't believe this." Napoleon flopped back on the bed and wiped the sweat from his face. Never had he worked so hard and achieved so... nothing.
"Did I do something wrong?" Illya was concerned and more than a little puzzled.
Napoleon hadn't mentioned his inability to achieve an erection, not even to his partner. It had been glossed over in the doctor's report, a side effect of the drugs THRUSH fed him. THRUSH didn't know the humiliation or sense of failure not being able to become erect had caused Napoleon and he made damn sure they didn't know. It would have been exploited then and he wasn't about to let that happen.
No, THRUSH's main concern was that he spill UNCLE's secrets. The drugs' sole purpose was to loosen his tongue. They hadn't and the longer the effect lingered, the more tight-lipped Napoleon had become about it. No matter what, the one thing he'd always been able to count upon had been his ability to perform.
It had been a crazy day of rushing about the city and they'd finally grabbed take out from Napoleon's favorite Indian restaurant and headed back to Illya's apartment. Compared to Napoleon's, it was barren and sparsely furnished as Illya was spending more and more time at Napoleon's place these days and every time he did, more of Illya's possessions seemed to follow him there.
They'd toppled down onto Illya's beat up sofa and dug into the goat curry, shahi paneer, and thick garlicky naan. They cooled their mouths with beer, coconut barfi, and mango ice cream. There had been a dribble of ice cream on Illya's chin and Napoleon had obligingly taken care of it. One thing led to another, or it should have.
Instead of a burgeoning erection, Napoleon's penis remained contentedly unaffected. Nothing they did had awakened the sleeping giant.
"It isn't you, Illya." Napoleon took a deep breath and began to talk. He started back in the THRUSH cell and didn't stop until he'd finally unburdened himself. That alone felt enormously freeing. Still, his confession didn't make the pain in Illya's eyes hurt him any less.
"You should have told me before now." Illya was quiet.
"Why? You couldn't do anything about it. It's something I've had to come to terms with. The doctors tell me that the drugs are out of my system. This is more mental than anything else. "
"It doesn't matter." Illya gave Napoleon's flaccid penis a gentle squeeze.
"It matters to me. I mean, what if I can't... ever again?"
"Then we will deal with it on a day-by-day basis. You mean more to me than sex."
"You say that, but..."
"Ow!" Napoleon half choked as his tongue was bitten. He pulled away, or at least as far as he could with Illya's appendages holding him in place. "What did you do that for?"
"Here and now, Napoleon. You start dwelling in the past and I'm gone. Someone else has already left the playing field."
It didn't take a rocket scientist for Napoleon to know what Illya was talking about. His penis had deflated back to its usual size.
"Don't be sorry. It's time you face these demons, Napoleon. Those drugs are long out of your system and you know that." Then Illya stopped and Napoleon watched as his lover's face clouded. "Or it is something best handled by someone else? Perhaps one of your lady friends?"
"Don't even joke about that," Napoleon said, tightening his grip on Illya's waist. "There is no one I trust more." He dipped in for a kiss. "Want more." Another kiss. "Love mor..." He never finished as Illya's hands caught and held Napoleon's head while Illya's tongue plundered a willing mouth.
Napoleon purposefully broke with his conscious mind and let instincts take over. He ran his hands up Illya's sides, now free from gauze and tape. Illya's skin responded with goose flesh, prickling beneath Napoleon's fingertips.
Napoleon managed to break away from that delightful mouth and headed for an ear. He nuzzled the blond hair that fringed the ear, relishing the softness of the lobe before flicking it with his tongue.
Illya moaned and arched his pelvis up against Napoleon's, even as his large, capable hands curled into each cheek of Napoleon's ass.
Napoleon rested his forehead against Illya's, smiling at the ragged edge of Illya's breath against his cheek. "I think we should take this to a more appropriate playing surface."
"More than this?" Illya's fingers massaged Napoleon's ass through the thin material of his pants.
"Perhaps less of some things, such as restrictive clothing..."
Slowly Illya's arms and legs loosened their grip and Napoleon pushed off the floor and reached down a hand. Illya caught it, but came up only to his knees. The difference in their heights put Illya's face waist level and Napoleon's breath caught as Illya's fingers began to undo his belt.
"What are you doing?"
"Surely it hasn't been that long, Napoleon." He undid the buckle and eased the zipper down, taking care not to catch anything as he did. He flicked a look up, as if to make sure his course of action was approved of and Napoleon's penis sprang free from its fabric prison. "Well, he doesn't seem to have suffered any the worse for the lack of exercise."
"No, I..." Napoleon's voice fell from words to a moan as Illya's tongue worked its way around his glans. Illya suckled the tip the way a baby suckled its mother's breast and Napoleon felt his knees weakening. He tried to pull away, but Illya was having none of it. His arms held Napoleon in place as Illya's mouth worked its magic up and down, swallowing and releasing the hardened flesh time and again.
"Hmm, you seem to be responding well to external stimuli." One of Illya's fingers moved to his mouth and when it came free, it glistened with saliva. "Now let's see about internal."
Napoleon wanted to shout out a warning, but all he could manage was a sharp gasp as he was suddenly breached and a long, slick finger slid into him. At the same time, his penis was swallowed to its root. A fingertip flicked against Napoleon's prostate and suddenly it was all he could do to hold on for the ride.
He tipped his head back as Illya's mouth pistoned and Napoleon's fingers tangled themselves in that long blond, impossibly soft hair and began to direct the pace.
Suddenly, his fingertips dug into Illya's scalp as a second finger slid in to join the first. Napoleon felt himself ejaculate, a screaming searing of pain/pleasure that seemed to start at his groin and explode outward. He cried, he moaned, and prayed it would go on forever. When Illya's fingers slipped out, Napoleon felt a sense of loss and tears trickled down his cheeks.
Illya's mouth held him until the shuddering stopped and Napoleon's breathing became more or less normal.
"It does seem that your responses are fair." Illya's face was flushed from exertion and with his own need.
"Fair? I'm surprised I didn't blast a hole in the back of your head," Napoleon protested as Illya sat back and opened his own pants to allow his swollen penis to escape.
"Oh, that's good." He reached down to stroke himself, his eyes closed.
"I can think of something even better," Napoleon whispered, letting his hand cover Illya's. "Let's go to bed."
Two climaxes later, Napoleon was ready to admit to himself that his previous issue was behind him. He could feel Illya's semen trickling down his thigh and grinned. Quite literally behind me, he thought
He rolled over onto his back, wincing as he hit a cold wet spot. "How come I always get the wet spot?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing." Illya moved off another, while making a face. "Perhaps the key would be to leave fewer of them..."
"I don't think so." Napoleon reached out to turn off the bedside light. "Illya?" he asked in the dark. He could hear Illya settling beside him, feel the heat from the man's body and smell the resulting combination of their sweat and lovemaking.
"I want to ask you something and I want you to give it some serious thought."
"Yes, Napoleon, I will."
"You will give what I'm going to suggest some thought? Without jumping to a conclusions, I mean?"
"Yes, I will move in here, Napoleon."
"I mean you.... what? How did you—?" Napoleon turned the light back on, but Illya didn't stir, not even to open his eyes.
"I took a leap of faith, the most recent of many since meeting you, and guessed that's where you were headed."
"I mean, you do practically live here now... and it would free up your place for another agent."
"Napoleon, you don't have to convince me. I already said yes."
"I'm working on my argument for Mr. Waverly."
This time Illya's eyes did open and his head even managed to raise itself from the pillow. "Napoleon, what makes you think Waverly doesn't know? Moreover, what makes you think Waverly didn't engineer this years ago?"
"You can't make two people fall in love. It just doesn't happen that way."
"But it's a wise man that sees a connection and manipulates it to his greatest advantage. Waverly saw something in us that suggested that as a pair we would be stronger and that would be to his advantage. You have to remember that his vision is for the overall good of UNCLE."
"You're not suggesting that this was all just a manipulation on his part."
"Perhaps at the beginning, certainly not now. However, he started us upon this course, he cannot very likely pull us from it now." Illya's head dropped back down. "Shut off the light, Napoleon, and we shall discuss this later.
"Tomorrow, when I am boxing up what little I still have at my place and moving it here."
Napoleon rolled to his side and kissed Illya, not surprised that there was little reaction from those swollen lips. He'd really made up for lost time.
"Sleep now. Kanoodling later."
"Where did you get that phrase?" Napoleon spooned up against Illya, the man's body so achingly familiar in his arms.
Napoleon could tell he had but seconds left now before sleep overtook his partner. It was time... now or never. He was going to say it, the one thing he'd never said before to anyone. He took a deep breath and nestled close to Illya's head. "Love you." And his breath caught.
"Love you too." Illya's voice was more a mumble now, but to Napoleon it was as if he'd screamed it from the rooftop.
"You... you do?"
"Who else would lack the judgment, will power, or common sense to fall in love with you, Napoleon? Now you have until the count of three to shut up."
"Or what?" Napoleon's mouth found a section of soft skin and kissed it. Illya shrugged him away, but Napoleon was instantly back, sucking now, marking the spot.
"Don't make me come... over there." Illya's voice was more awake now and Napoleon smiled.
"You and what army?"
Illya turned abruptly in Napoleon's arms and the wrestling match was on. It lasted for all of ten seconds and ended with mouth pressed firmly to mouth.
"I do mean it, you know. I do love you. I've never told anyone that before."
"Not even your wife?"
"Strangely enough, no, not even her. And most certainly never meant it the way I mean it now."
"Then Waverly was right all along."
"I suppose so."
This time he felt rather than saw Illya's smile whisper soft against his cheek. "Don't you love it when things work out just like they're supposed to?"
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