"I know we are, but...Chyort." Illya's mind was still going a mile a minute before he just decided that what the hell, why not?, and let himself be dragged along.

"Insufferable American. With your witty mouth and your pretty face..." He huffed and his hands reached out to cup Napoleon's face and pull him closer for another scorching kiss. He wasn't sure what he was doing, aside that it was dangerous, but the idea was more exciting than unappealing and Illya forced himself not to think.