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

[lovingyourwork]

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?"

[ill_take_bottom]

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.

[lovingyourwork]

"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.

[ill_take_bottom]

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.

[lovingyourwork]

“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.

[ill_take_bottom]

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.

[lovingyourwork]

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.

[ill_take_bottom]

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.

[lovingyourwork]

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.

[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.