Truth

You learn  about people when you work with them both in and out of the office. You learn their habits, good and bad,  their loves and hatreds, their opinions on subjects from politics to weather.  Over the years I have learned much about my partner, Napoleon Solo.

Riding home with Napoleon I realized I had learned more about him than I probably even knew about myself.  Being from the Soviet Union, one had a  tendency to not let yourself think to much beyond what was expected of you.

I had been in the United States for five years now and was starting to relax in voicing my opinions on the world around me with my partner and friend.

This day at the office had been particularly slow. I worked on reports, naturally, as Napoleon was talking on the phone most of the morning, setting up assignments for the lower Section 2 members.

We ate lunch outside of headquarters, for a change, and discussed current events.  But something struck me a odd during our lunch. Napoleon didn't once let his eye stray to the females that were in the restaurant.  I knew there were several young ladies that were trying to attract his attention but not once did he do the usual Napoleon flirt, that is, a gracious line, a slip of the phone number, a charming smile to be given.  He did none of that today.

As we walked back to the office, I asked him out of curiousity, "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Shrugging my shoulders, "You seem off your game today. Usually you have two phone numbers in your pocket from a luncheon like we just had."

"Oh? That," he answered. "Not in the mood to play today my friend."

I nodded. I was starting to get worried about my friend.  He never, in my time being with him, had not played the game that I knew him to play. It was his soul.

As we returned to the office, Napoleon excused himself to pull some files in the research room.  I returned to our office and sat back down at my desk.  For a moment I looked at the opposite chair that now sat empty. Something was bothering my American friend. What that was, I had no idea.

The afternoon had gone quickly or as Napoleon would say, times flies when you’re having fun. I finished the reports without being interrupted by Napoleon at least. 

The man himself  returned to the office at 4:30 and announced that he thought it was time we head home.

Napoleon had driven that day from our apartment building. Since Napoleon was my ride, I had to agree with him.

Riding in the car, I looked at him.  He was still quiet, not his usual cocky self.  By now, I have heard two recycled jokes and his scheme for his latest date.  None was coming from him tonight.

"Have I done something wrong Napoleon?"

Napoleon shook his head no. "No Illya. I'm sorry. Just been thinking."

"About what?" I inquire.

"Many things Illya." Napoleon shifted and changed lanes to make a turn.

Napoleon did not seem the need to elaborate on what he was thinking. I sat back and watched out my window the scenery of New York go by.

We did our normal procedure once we parked in the garage. Taking the elevator to the lobby and checking our mail, then we proceeded to the elevators that served the apartments.

"Any plans this evening?" Napoleon asked as we waited for the car to descend to the lobby.

"I picked up some books from the library last week."  Napoleon knew that to mean, same as usual, read some, eat what I have in the cupboard, if anything, and go to bed at a decent time.

"Dinner?" he asked. "Thinking of having something delivered, and you know how I hate to eat alone."

My friend seems to be coming back to himself, his eyes were gaining some of the light that makes them shine. "Why not. Let me off on my floor and I'll be up in a few minutes."

We step into the car and hit our two buttons, I am on floor ten as Napoleon is the penthouse.

"What do you feel like?" he asks.

"You choose. You know what I like."

"After five years I have learned that at least, food of any kind."

"Almost any food." I still cringe when I see hot dogs and chili fair.

Napoleon tries to stifle his laughter but it is in vain. "I will make it special.”

“See that you do,” I reply.  I am happy to banter with him, it means he is getting back to being the man I know him to be.

I step out of the elevator and see the doors close behind me, cutting my sight off of my friend. I make my way to my door and preform the duties that a spy needs to do to make home and hearth safe.
Five minutes later I am satisfied that my apartment has been not tampered with in the last nine hours.  I walk down the short hall to my bedroom and start to strip. I am in need of a shower.

After said shower, I dress in a pair of faded jeans, a soft white t-shirt and a pair of white generic gym shoes,  I head to Napoleon's apartment at the said twenty minutes.  I knock on the door and after a minute but I do not hear Napoleon.

With my key to his apartment, I let myself in. I see the security system is in place and I reset it. Walking through the large apartment I hear his own shower running in the master bedroom.

I make my way to the living room, stopping at the bar.  I pull out a bottle vodka from the small refrigerator and pour myself a drink.  I spot the evening paper on the coffee table.  I search through it and pull out the crossword puzzle.  Finding a pen, I fold the paper and make myself comfortable on the couch.

A few minutes later I sense Napoleon enter the room.  I look up and see him smiling over at me. “Make yourself at home won't you?" Napoleon is dressed in jeans and a blue jersey shirt.

"Well the host was in the shower doing his own thing," I remarked.

Napoleon went to the bar and poured himself his Scotch.  "Dinner will be here in a few minutes."

"And what did you choose?" I ask, my interest piqued.

"German."

I smiled. It had been sometime since we had German food.  The smell of sausage and sauerkraut, and potato pancakes.  Most of the time Napoleon complains about it. "That is a switch for you, my friend."

"Why? I said it would be a surprise."

"It is."  I agree that it is a surprise to turn to my ethnic background.

I stand and follow him to the kitchen and help find plates and silverware. We  sit at the breakfast bar.

A knock comes to the door and he leaves to answer.  I let my mind wonder for a moment what Napoleon is up to.  He rarely caters to my interests, only when he wants something.   I throw it out of my mind however when he returns shortly after with a flat brown box that smells of a mix of food.

We open containers and divide up their contents.  We sit to full plates of a smorgasbord of food. Over food we discuss the arts.  There is a new exhibit at the museum of art.  Though I am neo classic in choice, and he is classic, we could discuss paintings and painters with ease. 

After finishing the main course, Napoleon pulls out the last container and opens it.  Chocolate mouse with chocolate shavings.  I lick my lips.  He remembered.   Slipping the dessert in front of me, I raise my fork in anticipation of the rich dessert. 

“One thing I do know is you and your love for chocolate,” Napoleon laughs.  He starts eating his own dessert.

While eating, Napoleon starts to ask me questions and again I am perplexed.

“Illya, you never have quite dated anyone for a time since you have been here.  Did you ever have a serious relationship?”

It was customary between us to avoid such discussions but for some reason Napoleon was touching on it now.  Then it dawns on me, I have been set up.  He is catering to me to open myself up to him.  He has done this in the past, trying to figure out something about me that after some time he has not been able to answer his own question.  I could answer him directly or tell him that I wish not to discuss.  Looking at him I see that he is truly wanting an answer from me.

“I have had relationships Napoleon, however, not in what relationships I have seen you to have.”

Napoleon sits back in his chair.  “And what is that my friend?”

I am not ashamed of my past, but few understand my choices, even fewer in those of narrow minds.  I knew that Napoleon did not have such a narrow mind, but still, I wanted his respect.


“Growing up I was limited in choices.”  Napoleon nods.  “First the Gulag, then an orphanage.  Never much contact with anyone of the opposite sex.”  Dawning registers in my friends eyes.  “While I was ten, I was taken into a gang in the orphanage.  Being smaller, I was outsized by most of the other students.  However there was a price.”  A price of being a slave, I thought.  I put my fork down and look back to Napoleon.  “It was not easy, but things could have been worse for me. Then I was taken to live with a family, an officer of the KGB.  I went to school and met girls.  But I could not seem to make, what you call, a fire.”  I chuckle in memory of trying to kiss a girl from my school.  It was hopeless.  “Then I was on a submarine, for six months.” I shrug.  “I have chosen a different road less traveled, I think you would say.”

“Why haven’t you pursued anyone here?”

I pick up my fork and take another bite.  “New territory my friend.  I have to check my back.”

“Watch your back,” Napoleon corrected.

“Not many people like people like me.”  That statement held a double meaning.  People do not like anyone Soviet in nature and being gay.  Two things that make it hard for someone like me in this place called United States.

“I like you,” Napoleon responded.

Now I am startled.  “You are just not saying that to make me feel better?” I ask.

Napoleon sat forward, laying his elbows on the table.  A lecture from his is about to commence I fear.

“Illya, I have been around a few places myself.  I was in love once to a lovely lady, but that was taken from me all to quickly.”  I nod in regards to his wife’s passing.  “I went to war, as like the Navy, women were not around.  People have a tendency to use what is available.  I have learned to love things about people, both male and female.  The last five years I have watched you move from a shy blond young man to a confidant friend and partner.  I relish the time we spend together off mission just talking.  A true lover is a friend first, don’t you agree?”

I wonder if I heard right.  “Excuse me?”

“A true lover is a friend first.”  Napoleon must see I’m in slight shock.  “I’ve been watching you for some time now.  Wondered.  Speculated.  I’ve wondered what it’s like to kiss those pouting lips.  To hold that lean body against mine.  To take your cock in my hand and bring you just to the brink and love you some more.”

“Bold words,” I state.

“Bold actions,” Napoleon countered.

It had been a long time. A long time to even permit myself from thinking I could love someone else freely.  Oh I had dated women as a front.  But I wanted a man.  And here my friend is telling me he wanted me.  I had denied myself the thought of think of him in such a way.  The man with the flirting reputation.    I swallow and look deeply into his eyes.  I must question this.  “Mr. Waverly...” I start to say.

“As long as we get our work done, he doesn’t care.  He knows I have had other dealings in the past and I imagine he does of you.”

I nod.  Yes he does.

“Then with that said ...”

“There is nothing in our way,” I finish.

Then we have that odd moment.  What move to make.

“Finish up your dessert.  We’ll clean up our dishes and see about a night cap then.”

While I pick up my fork and take another mouthful of mousse, I look over the Napoleon.  Thinking.  The thought of being with Napoleon was something I had thought about when I had first met him but with his girl chasing ways, I didn’t permit myself to think of him.  And now.

“You okay Illya?”  Breaking into my thoughts. 

“Just getting used to the idea.”

We finished our desserts and cleaned the dishes in our usual quickness.  He washed as I dried and put the dishes away.  I was aware of him being close, a touch of the hand.    We found ourselves back in the living room. 

Napoleon starts a fire in the gas fire place.  I sat on the sofa once more and watch him move about the room.  He turns off the larger lights, leaving the sconces on.  A romantic at heart he is.

He does not come near me, he goes to stand before the windows that look out over the city.

I move to stand beside him.  I look out too, seeing the lights on in surrounding buildings.   I wonder how many places out there are going through the same scenario, standing by their soon to be lover. 

“It’s been a long time.” I say out loud.

“I know, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I know that.  Just wanted you to know that it’s been a long time that I have allowed myself to relax.”

“I wondered part of the day if this would be an avenue to take.  If I was wrong, you would have killed me.”

“Kill? No.  Maim perhaps.”

“Well that makes me feel better,” Napoleon laughed.

I turn to him.  He slips his hands around me, like the master he is.  I look up and he claims my mouth.  I open to his request and feel myself tasted and touched by him.  I bring my hands up to his shoulders as he continues to kiss me.  Oh he was a master of such things.  Most of my lovers tended to cut to the quick but with Napoleon, fore play was just as important.

He pulls back to catch his breath as well as I do.  He holds me close as I drink in the needed air.

“You taste sweet.”

“It’s the dessert you gave me,” I reply.

“You won’t make endearments easy will you?”

“It’s not my style.”

“That is true.”

A hand caresses my spine, I feel the fingertips through my t-shirt.  I look up at him and again he captures my mouth.  His tongue touches and duels with mine.  I hold on, unable to move beyond the kiss.

He moves a fraction away, breaking the kiss. He starts to kiss along my chin to my right ear.  There he nibbles on the ear lobe causing me to shiver then laves my ear.  A chuckle fills my ear. 

I move my head to kiss him.  If I don’t show him some movement, he will think I am easy. As I kiss him he pulls us closer together.  I can’t help but moan when my groin grinds against him.

He doesn’t release me, he teases his hips against me.  I break the kiss with a gasp.  “Easy.”

A hand caresses my back and buttocks.  “It has been a long time for you.” A simple statement.

“Been a long time to relax and feel safe.” I state as I rest my head on his shoulder.  That was it.  I felt safe with Napoleon, to show my feelings.

Napoleon moves away but grabs my hands.  He pulls me closer to the fire.  He picks up the blanket that he saves by the fireplace and spreads it out.  Then he reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head.  He works on my fly of my jeans.  I save him the task of my shoes by toeing them off before he pulls my jeans and briefs off.

My cock is happy to free of the pressure of my jeans.  I look down to see it’s already weeping. 

Napoleon moves me so to lay down on the soft blanket.  Yes, Napoleon is the master of seduction.

He undresses quickly and I gulp when I see his own reaction.  I had never seen him fully in need.  To feel that in me would make me cry for heaven and mercy.

“What’s wrong?” Napoleon asked me.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know if I can ...”

Napoleon looks down to his cock.  “Oh that ... not tonight Illya.  We’ll work on that.  I don’t want to hurt you.  This night is for you.”

“But...”

“There are more ways to come,” he answers.  He lays down next to me and pulls me into his arms. 

We kiss and touch, finding places the evoke sighs and groans.  Then his hand creeps around my cock and I moan.  So good, so long.

He pulls and touches.  My body reacts to his ministrations, shivering and moving.  He continues to kiss my neck and lips as he plays me further up the climb.  Soon the pressure is great.  “Napasha.”  I am almost there. 

Napoleon’s hands leave my groin and I open my eyes to see him looking down at me.  I am panting, thinking what he is up to when he shifts position.  Then I swallow heavily when he takes me into his mouth.  

It will not be long before I come.  He sucks my cock and licks the head.  My hips are held down my his hands. My hands are fisting the blanket.  He draws me to the point of the cliff and then I jump.  It hurts, I come hard, harder than I ever have remembered.  I cry out in relief but also in remorse that this is ending so soon.

Napoleon sucks me as I come.  I shiver with the aftermath of coming.  I feel boneless, unable to move.

Once more he is lying beside me.  He wraps his arm around me and just nuzzles my neck.  I feel like my life has been sucked from me yet I slowly regain my reality.

“Yes Illya?”  Napoleon once he thinks I’m back to myself.

I move to kiss him.  He smiles at me and we kiss some more.  “Up to more playing?” he asks. 

I nod. 

We stand, I with assistance from Napoleon, and move to the bedroom.  “Now I’m going to love you from head to toe.”

And for the next hour he did just that.  How I survived it I have no idea.  But he brought me to the brink many times and held me off.  No one had brought such joy to my body.  I came by him grinding his own massive cock against mine. The bumping and sliding again making me shiver.  I came first, having had my senses assaulted for so long.  Napoleon came a few thrusts later.

Though sticky with the outcome, neither one of us had the strength to move to clean off. 

I lay on my back with Napoleon half covering me.  Slowly I played with his hair as we both tried to catch our breaths.

Napoleon starts to rub my stomach and I can not resist not to  giggle.  “Is my Illya ticklish?”

“No comment.”

Napoleon tries again and I giggle more.  “And the truth is?”

“Truth is only you are allowed to know.”

Slowly Napoleon gets up and washes himself off and returns to do the same to me.  Again I see the true nature of Napoleon, sharing and taking care of someone he loves.   We pull down the covers of the bed and I cuddle up to him.

“Thank you.” Napoleon kisses me.

“For?”

“Allowing me to share this with you.”

I rest my head on his shoulder.  “I didn’t dare dream of this, but I’m glad.  You have been one of the few to take a chance on me when I arrived here.  I have always loved your for that.”

“It seems we have five years to make up for.”

I groan at the thought of having Napoleon at me for so long. 

“What?  Don’t think you can handle me that long?”

“With your will power .. I think I’ll die before the first anniversary.”

With a chuckle, Napoleon kisses the top of my head.  “Get some sleep brat.  We have to be at work by nine.”

“Yes Napasha.”

I snuggle closer to him.  An arm holds me close as I close my eyes.  Dreams that are not dared dream, do come true.

 

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