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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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.
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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.
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"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."
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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.
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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.
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His eyes were blown, staring up at him. God he wanted the other man more than he'd ever wanted anyone else.
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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."
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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."
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"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.
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"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."
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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?"
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"God I've been wanting this for a while." He said, managing to pull him out of his pants and boxers, stroking slowly.
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"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.
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Then he pulled back slowly, repeating quickly, wanting to drive the Russian crazy just for him.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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He winked before moving back up, slipping into Illya's lap and kissing him deeply, rocking against him, letting the Russian feel how hard he was in return.
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Ah, but basics needs he could understand pretty well and the least he could do was to return the favor. One of his arms wrapped around the American's waist possessively, pushing him closer as Illya returned the kiss with a growl and bit his lip.
"You, insufferable man, so full of yourself, always trying to drive me mad..."
Illya said against his mouth, voice low and deep, with the least angriest voice Napoleon might have ever heard. He just had a lot of trouble sorting his emotions, always had, always will, so he let his hands and lips speak for him. Drawing Napoleon even closer, his mouth latched onto his neck, biting and sucking, and no doubt there would be a red mark tomorrow. His free hand squeezes Napoelon's thigh, moving up agonizingly slow until he finally presses his hands to the front of the man's pants.
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"I can teach you a few new tricks." He teased, nipping at his earlobe gently before pulling away and standing up. He held a hand out to the man, his cocky smile firmly in place.