ill_take_bottom

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."

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"You never mentioned them to me before." Illya knew that Napoleon wasn't all happy and that he was probably asking like a dog with a bone but he was curious. Perhaps Napoleon visited that sort of establishments for fun and not just for missions where he had too....He shook his head and stopped his own train of thought. There was no good answer to that question, both made him angry, jealous or both.

He blinked at the change in attitude and nodded immediately. Time to be professionals. And if he happened to enjoy itself a little, well, no one needed to know.

"Sorry, handsome. " He moved closer to Napoleon, letting go of his hand to wraps an arm around his shoulders and murmur into his ear. To the other people, they gave the impression of a casual friendly pair.

"To your left, the tall man with the mustache and the tattoo on his wrist. Our mark's bodyguard, the other can't be far away."

He leaned into Illya, smiling up at him before glancing over and giving a small nod. He pulled the other closer to him, acting like it was nothing. "Buy me a drink, darling. I want to enjoy having you all to myself this evening."

He winked up at him, pulling him down into a deep kiss. He had every intention of driving Illya insane since there was a chance this would never happen again. "Maybe if you spoil me I'll show you a good time when we get out of here." He teased, leaning close to the bar.

This mission was going to be the end of him and Illya was sure of it now. Some people glanced at them when they walked it but their little display quickly made them look away and go back to their own affair.

"Of course....love." Endearments didn't come easy to him but hell if he was going to let Napoleon have the upper hand. Trying his best to relax and not make the kiss look forced, Illya bit down on Napoleon's lip for his audacity. The tip of his ears was beet red when he pushed away.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." He added between teeth before heading towards the bar.

His eyes widened a bit and he groaned when Illya bit his lip, nudging him before ordering a drink. It put them just a few people away from their target and he glanced over at the man before looking at Illya. "Do you see anyone you think is attractive, darling?"

He was hoping Illya would choose their target, maybe if the man noticed they were talking about him they could draw him into conversation. Then Napoleon could take over for the most part.

'No one but you', Illya almost said but caught up on what Napoleon was trying to do before his own tongue could betray him. He made a small, humming sound as his eyes darted around. Their mark noticed and Illya held his icy glance a second longer before looking back at Napoleon.

"Hm. Perhaps."

He feigned disinterest, knowing that their target was listening and spotting from the corner of his eyes how the man's brows knitted together in confusion for a second. Their mark was known for having a prideful streak and he seemed offended at not being immediately recognized as more attractive than the rest of clients at the bar. Illya hid his smirk behind his drink when the man approached them to talk.

He took a sip of his scotch, leaning closer to Illya and giving him a small smirk before his eyes shifted to the mark as he approached. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head before his smile turned into something that looked much more genuine, though his partner would know better.

"Well hello there." He said, tipping his drink to him before clearing his throat. "I'm Anthony Simmons. This is my boyfriend, Pietro Markov. And you are?"

The blond did know better and while he admired Napoleon's abilities those also made his stomach churn. His free arm reached out to wrap itself around Napoleon as the mark answered and they engaged in conversation.

He participated in the conversation a few times but mostly let Napoleon work his magic and tried to keep his rising annoyance at bay, even smile from time to time. The way the mark was looking at them, and especially Napoleon...well, it was expected, it was their original intent, to get their full attention, but still bothered Illya.

In the end they were invited to dinner with the mark the next evening. He gave Napoleon his card, his attention definitely drifting to him more often than to Illya. He smiled warmly, slipping the card into his coat before motioning for Illya. "Come on. Lets dance."

He winked at Illya, though he had noticed his annoyance more than anything and he wanted to draw the man away from the situation. "Dance with me and then we'll go watch the show they're putting on." It would undoubtedly be a few pretty boys dancing and stripping. He could hopefully distract Illya from being too uncomfortable.

Illya startled slightly. He was busy checking discreetly on the mark's bodyguard when Napoloen's voice got his attention. He looked up from his drink with a furrowed brow and put it down a moment later.

"Not sure if I am very interested in public shows." He murmured as he followed Solo into the dance floor, shoulders stiff but trying to relax as quickly as he could. As always, it was not an easy feat.

"We got what we needed." The voice was low, enough that only Napoleon could hear it. "I know we can't just leave or it would look suspicious but do we really have to stay for that?" People dancing he could take. Stripping? Not so much. "It's degrading."

He pressed close, giving a slight nod. "We don't have to stay for the whole show. Just a little bit, Peril." He whispered back, sliding his hands up the man's chest slowly. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders next, drawing him closer so he could pull him into another kiss.

In retaliation for the bite earlier he latched onto Illya's lower lip, sucking firmly before letting his lips part so the other man could deepen the kiss if he so wished.

Still looking somewhat unhappy with the idea, Illya let Napoleon distract him with the kiss. He wished that there weren't so many people around them, looking at them...but if they weren't on a mission then Napoleon wouldn't be kissing him. So what was Illya thinking, wishing for the impossible? The American said he wanted to be friends with him and the rest of his actions were just part of their plan.

Illya's hands wrapped around Napoleon's waist, pulling him closer and almost melting against his mouth. Tension draining away, he pressed his tongue against Napoleon's, almost asking for permission.

He melted as well, moaning into the kiss and curling his tongue against Illya's. He pressed closer, making it obvious that he was hard and extremely interested. "Hmm maybe we should go find a good seat in the back of the club..." He breathed out, licking his lips.

His eyes were blown, staring up at him. God he wanted the other man more than he'd ever wanted anyone else.

At the suggestion, Illya almost choked on air and hissed a reply.

"Are you mad, Cowboy? Someone could see." Why yes, that was his main objection. At least, the first one that came to his overstimulated brain and he almost wanted to take it back a second later.

"You don't have to do this for the sake of mission."

"We are in a gay club, Peril." He murmured back, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him back towards a booth in the bed. "No one here will care if they see...because they'd do just as much if not more."

He pulled him into another kiss, this one even more searing than the one before. He dropped back, panting softly and shaking his head. "If you think I'm doing this because of the damn mission, you're an idiot."

"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.

He kept moving him back to that booth, pushing him down before sliding into his lap. He smirked, raising an eyebrow before sliding his fingers into Illya's hair and kissing him again deeply as he ground his hips down against the man's.

"You think I have a pretty face?" He asked, tilting his head. "And I thought you liked my witty mouth...then again you could always put it to better use."

Before he could complain about the pushing Napoleon was on him again and for that Illya was thankful. He could nip, bit, and kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm and in the meantime not have to think about the outside world.

Oh, but he did say that out loud. Damn.

"You do have a way with words." Illya reached forward to kiss the column of his neck, sucking at it to leave a mark. "Hm...could you?"

He moaned, tilting his head and groaning quietly. He closed his eyes, clinging to him before shifting backwards. He slid to the floor between Illya's thighs, smirking before grasping at his belt, tugging it open. He worked at the button and the zip next, dragging it down.

"God I've been wanting this for a while." He said, managing to pull him out of his pants and boxers, stroking slowly.

"H-hey..." It was mostly out of surprise that Illya didn't stop him when he should. He was still glowering in amazement at him as Napoleon made himself comfortable between his thighs and whimpered when the other spy wrapped a hand around his hardening cock.

"Napoleon." Illya bit down on his lower lip, trying to stop himself from making much noise, not sure if he wanted to tell the other man to stop or to keep going.

He looked up, staring into Illya's eyes before leaning in and wrapping his lips around the tip, swirling his tongue slowly and then bobbing down. He stopped when he couldn't even swallow any more, moaning around him.

Then he pulled back slowly, repeating quickly, wanting to drive the Russian crazy just for him.

“Fuck." Illya groaned, unable to bring himself to look away. He whimpered again, his self-control fraying, as Napoleon took him back into your mouth.

Another hard suck made his head spin as Illya focused on the view of his throbbing erection disappearing past reddened lips. He should probably say something but all he could do was moan lowly.

Napoleon's eyes slipped shut as he savored the man's taste, his smell, everything about him. He'd imagined this far too many times not to really enjoy himself now, especially since he knew the likelyhood of this ever happening again was next to zero.

In fact, there was a fairly high chance that once they got back to the hotel and out of the public eye, Illya might beat him bloody for going so far. So he was going to enjoy himself while he had the chance. He moaned around the thick cock in his mouth, bobbing his head a bit faster, fingers sliding up his inner thighs and squeezing.

He was already close, nails digging into the seat, legs twitching and the muscles of his stomach tense. 'What did I do to deserve this?' Illya thought, looking down at Napoleon with warm intensity. ' And how can I do it again?'

This wasn't exactly how he envisioned them getting together, not even Illya's fantasies were so bold, and he wasn't sure what Solo was getting out of this but he was far too gone to complain or think. He was panting, soft little gasps of Napoleon’ name tumbling from his lips.

"Ng...Napoleon...I'm..you need to..." Illya ran a hand through Napoleon's hair, shivering, his self-control fraying.

Oh but he wasn't going to stop, not until he had tasted Illya, gotten the man to let go entirely. He wouldn't be satisfied until then. So he just kept it up, bobbing his head faster, sucking harder and moaning.

He looked up, staring into his eyes, lips stretched tight around the thick shaft and skin flushed. He knew he looked thoroughly debauched, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Illya reached out a tentative with shaking hand and his fingers brush Napoleon's perfectly combed hair, stroking softly in time with his movements. In the end, It was the moaning what made it. Okay, if Illya had to be honest with himself , it was Napoleon's whole everything, but the morning was something else...

Solo seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as him, something the blond wouldn't have thought possible. Illya is breathing hard but he tries to make as little sound as possible, biting his lip, hips twitching helplessly as he comes. He's not entirely successful with eh whole 'not making any sound' but no one else seems to be paying them any attention.

PSL

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