Napoleon Solo (
ill_take_bottom) wrote2016-03-22 04:39 pm
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PSL
It was way too hot to just hang around the hotel room. He needed to really cool off so he'd decided to put on his bathing suit and then he'd headed down to the pool. He took a few hours just swimming and enjoying himself before coming back up, entering their room dripping wet. He eyed Illya for a moment, smiling. "You really should have joined me. That pool was amazing."
He grabbed a towel he'd tossed over a chair before heading out, drying his hair and rubbing the towel over his skin. "You really need to cut loose sometimes. You would enjoy yourself a lot more and maybe you wouldn't look so constipated all the time."
He grabbed a towel he'd tossed over a chair before heading out, drying his hair and rubbing the towel over his skin. "You really need to cut loose sometimes. You would enjoy yourself a lot more and maybe you wouldn't look so constipated all the time."
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His hands were still on Illya's skin, fingers tracing faintly over a scar. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Do you even realize how beautiful you are?"
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"Not tensing up. Relaxing....That I can do." The kissing might be a bit more complicated. He had issues with Gaby but given how he felt when Napoleon touched him, those could have been for a whole different reason. He let out a snort when Napoleon praised him, sounding self-deprecating.
"No need to butter me up, Cowboy. I already agreed to this."
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A moment later his lips brushed against Illya's shoulder blade and then he was pulling away. "It would probably be more believable because of your size if we pretend that you are...in charge between us. That you are the top in our relationship."
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The blond looked over his shoulder, his expression still mostly blank but the small twitch of the corner of his lips revealed his amusement. It was wishful thinking that Napoleon could be interested; and Illya didn't want to analyze if he wanted to have the man's real attention or not.
He shivered at the light kiss, breath catching in his throat and cheeks growing warm. When Napoleon moved away, Illya quickly put on the shirt, buttoning it up in a rush.
"Oh? Should I be the one touching you, then?"
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He stepped closer. "Do you think you could handle kissing me?" He asked, standing close enough that his breath ghosted over his cheek, skin flushed and eyes dark.
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Getting rid of his pants next to put on the other fancier pair, Illya stopped himself from both rolling his eyes and blushing at Napoleon's comment. A second later he was all ready and only just realizing how close was to Napoleon.
"I..."
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He leaned forward, closing the space between them and brushing their lips but still unsure. He was a professional, he could do this. There was no ulterior motive.
At least that was Illya told himself.
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He had ulterior motives though and he would have no problem admitting to his attraction for the other man, if he didn't think it would get him murdered by the same man.
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The angle was much better now and Illya's hands moved to Napoleon's waist, twitching for a moment but he otherwise remained motionless.
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He pressed his body against Illya's trying to encourage him to do more.
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"I...that...should be convincing enough."
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He really didn't want to, because those were troublesome thoughts, ideas that could get them both killed. He felt his hands start to shake and clenched them into fists, trying to keep calm.
"You don't know many things about me, Cowboy." The voice was almost a whisper and Illya cleared his throat and spoke much louder a moment later."Shall we go?"
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He fixed his hair, making himself presentable before going to Illya and straightening out his clothes, making sure not to look him in the eyes.
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Came the quick reply even before Illya realized he had opened his big mouth to speak. He tilted his head at Napoleon's next move, it was almost domestic the way he was making sure Illya looked presentable. He allowed himself a small smile, taking advantage of the fact Napoleon wasn't looking at his face.
"Could ask if you wanted to know things." He wasn't promising an answer, but asking was allowed.
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"You may not believe me, Illya, but you aren't just my partner. You're my friend." He withdrew his hands then, turning to go to the door. "Come on. There should be a car waiting for us."
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But anything that had happened today was far from normal by his standards. So what was some more madness in his life right now? He could always not answer if he became too uncomfortable.
He followed Napoleon quite meekly when the man walked away. Friend. What an odd concept, he didn't had many, if any, before. But he understood it well enough. He liked the American even if it was hard to admit.
"I believe you, Cowboy. It's just...why?"
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He got in the car, shrugging a shoulder and clearing his throat. "I want to know things outside of this life. Your childhood, your favorite things. Everything."
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"Childhood is not interesting subject of conversation." It hurt too much and it would only make him angry. Illya didn't want that when they were finally having an amicable conversation. He looked outside the window, trusting Napoleon to get them where they had to go and offered a proper answer. "I like playing chess, reading...dancing too, on occasion, if it doesn't end in a wrestling match."
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He smiled at the wrestling comment, shaking his head. "You keep bringing up wrestling. Gaby must have done a number on you." He teased, laughing as he looked over at him. "I promise no wrestling. We'll just have to see how you put those dancing skills to use tonight."
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"She could take you down too." He wasn't even going to mention that she mostly took him off guard, it was a weak excuse and Gaby deserved better. She was a lil ball of angry that had earned his respect. Illya didn't look disgusted by the idea to dance with Napoleon, quite the opposite, but doing that in public..."We still need to finish the mission, don't forget that."
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He laughed at the next, nodding. "Oh I know she could. That is why I don't bother trying to challenge her because she'd likely put me on my ass." He said, shrugging a shoulder and raising an eyebrow. "We will be pretending to be a couple, so dancing is on the charts."
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Then he snorted. Damn right, Gaby could and would.
"Hm. Not all couples dance, maybe we can do some other..." Illya waved a hand, pointing really at nothing. "...activity."
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A few minutes later they were pulling up outside the club and he got out, handing the keys to the valet. "Not a scratch."
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