Mistletoe

Illya sat at his desk.  The season known as Christmas was distracting for him.  He liked his solace and the quietness that came with it when he was working in his lab or working with Napoleon on paperwork in their office.  But the ‘Tis the Season, was enough to make a reformed Communist jump on a plane to Moscow if he thought he would survive being in his home country again.  But that would never be, he had much at stake, his life for one.  He could not return to the USSR being out of country for so long.  He finally leaned in his heart that he could love and he would never leave that behind.

Speaking of love, Illya looked across from his desk to look at his partner and love, Napoleon Solo.

Napoleon had chosen his classic dark brown suit that complimented his darker skin tone.  Illya admired that for a man of his age, he was in great shape and it showed in everything he did.  Illya, the repressed stylist that he was, was proud to be the one that his partner currently chose to be more than friends with.

Illya finally decided it was time to find out what his partner was up to however in regards to what was hanging over him at his desk. 

Illya sat back in his chair to look up to see the green sprig dangling over his partner.  He had watched Napoleon come in this morning, whistling Jingle Bells (shiver in distaste) and went to work in hanging the greenery over his chair.

“Napoleon?” Illya asked, finally his interest being quipped.

Looking up from his own work he looked at Illya and gave his wide smile.  “Yes?”

“What is that green thing you hung up?”

“Mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe?”

“Yes.”

“For whatever for?”

“To see what charming people will be giving me kisses.”

“And what people would that be?  Secretaries?  Mail room attendants?”

"Sulking lab rats perhaps."

Illya raised his eyebrows to that one.  "Sulking lab rats?"

"Yes, I believe you sulk quite a bit when thinking of me with anyone else other than you."

"Where you belong," Illya pointed out

"Where I belong," Napoleon agreed.

Illya stood up and made his way around their two desks.  Dressed in his black slacks and a favorite black turtleneck sweater.  A study in black and white, Napoleon told him.  His love for black clothing set against his white skin and blond hair.  Contrasts.

Illya stood next to Napoleon then bent over.  "How many times have I seen this move done to you over our years of partnership?"

"So many times, that even I, Napoleon Solo, can not even estimate the count of such an act."

Illya moved closer and gave his partner a kiss, one that started out nice and sweet, but developed into promise of a future event.  Pulling away, Napoleon ran his tongue over his lips, tasting what Illya had left.

"Promises, promises," Napoleon stated.

"As you know, I keep my promises, it's you that has a tendency to stray from their objective."

"Well I believe that over the last few months I have learned the error of my ways."

"And I plan on keeping that lesson going for you."

Napoleon looked down at his desk and closed the folder he had been working on.  "I think that you and I have accrued enough time to be able to call it a day, don't you think?"

"So soon?" Illya asked with an air of innocence to him.

"Illya, don't expect me to believe that look about you after you just given me a kiss that has sent my cock into a state of complete arousal.  You might have me think of you as a cock tease."

Illya smiled as he stepped back to gather his coat.  "I would hardly define myself as a cock tease.  You are the one who is known for their flirtatious nature."

Napoleon stood and took his coat from Illya's offered hand.  "The things you do to my Mr. Kuryakin.  What I have to endure to keep the US, Russian relations going."

Illya sighed.  Yes he was from another world, another regime that could not, would not understand his needs.  But the man before him, who since their pairing, had gone the extra mile to make him feel at home, did just that.   Illya stepped close to Napoleon and kissed him once more.  "If there was anything to say to you with my dying breath, it would be 'I love you.'"

"And if there was a chance to say to you my love, it would be that too.  I love you."

With that they exited the office.  Napoleon told his current secretary that he and Mr. Kuryakin would be away for the afternoon and if needed for anything of priority he was to be paged.

Illya asked Napoleon as they made their way to the elevator.  "Do you have anymore of that?"

"That what?"

"Mistletoe?"

"No.  Why?"

"Just wondering.  Was thinking of hanging some of that over your bed.  You know, you love to kiss in your bed."

Napoleon liked his partner's thinking.  "I think we can scare some up on the way home."

Illya smiled, starting to develop his plan of siege on to one's body belonging to Napoleon Solo. 

 

@ 2005 Tommy Boy fan fiction * design and content by Paula C. *