PSL

[ill_take_bottom]

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."

Comments

[ill_take_bottom]

Oh but he heard those sounds and god he relished in them, wanting to hear more. He swallowed every bit that Illya gave him, pulling back and licking his lips before swirling his tongue around the tip one more time. "Delicious."

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.

[lovingyourwork]

Illya tried in vain to hide his embarrassment. He was still panting, there was a blush spreading from his cheek down his neck and collarbone, and he probably looked like the picture of debauchery. Napoleon winking at him did nothing to help his overstimulated brain and neither did the kissing.

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.

[ill_take_bottom]

"Was I succeeding though?" He asked against his lips, deepening the kiss and slowly wrapping his arms around the man, groaning quietly when he felt that hand rubbing through his pants. "What say we head back to the hotel?" He whispered in Illya's ear, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"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.