"So. We survived another...affair." Illya smiled at Napoleon. "And this time, I did not need more than a small bandage." He displayed the adhesive strip on his forefinger.
"That's a change." Napoleon licked his dry lips. "So. We seem to be at your apartment." He parked the car. "I. Suppose I'll see you in the morning? Pick you up at the same time?"
Illya smiled again. *That* smile. The one Napoleon never saw. The one he'd never admit he always saw in his dreams. "Perhaps. But perhaps you will come upstairs with me so I can make you a proper cup of coffee?" Napoleon nodded, once.
While Illya busied himself in his kitchen with mysterious devices to make what he called "drinkable" coffee, and what Napoleon called "sludge", Napoleon performed a routine check for any calling cards THRUSH might have left behind. By the time he decided the place was clean as well as immaculate, Illya had arranged a tray with each item in its precise assigned place and placed it on the ebony coffee table in front of his pure white sofa.
With a glance over his shoulder at Illya, Napoleon stood on his toes to check one last wall sconce. As he did, as he knew would happen, Illya was right there, pushing him into the wall. "I saw you with her." Illya's whisper was hot against his ear. "I watched you flirt with her."
"I had to. You know I had to. It got us the plans!" Napoleon fought to draw breath against the pressure and his own rising heat.
"You enjoyed it, Napoleon. I watched you. I was tied up there and I had to watch you kiss her." And Illya's own lips touched his neck, followed by Illya's teeth, hard, sharp. Napoleon shuddered. "And you know how that makes me feel." He could only manage a nod now. "So. You know what this means." He nodded again.
He let Illya pull his jacket off his arms, and shuddered again when his belt was unfastened, his pants opened and unzipped and pulled down with his undergarments to his knees, and no further, while Illya groped and caressed his body as he willed. One hand disappeared and Napoleon heard a second zipper going down. The sound echoed through the stark apartment. And then Illya pushed against him again, his erection hot against Napoleon's flesh, his pants harsh against his bare legs.
"You want this, Napoleon? You want this?"
Once again, he could only nod. And then it was gone, replaced by two cold, wet fingers, one rough with the bandage. He spread his legs as far as they could go, imprisoned as they were in his pants as Illya forced his way between his cheeks. Illya could be gentle. He could send Napoleon soaring with just his hands. He chose differently this time, and Napoleon gasped at his strength and clutched at the wall.
And then Illya's fingers were gone and Napoleon took as deep a breath as he could, but nothing, not even past experience, could prepare him for Illya slamming into him, deeply into him, crushing him against the pure white wall, driving hard and heavy and feeling like Illya was touching every part of him, could feel his zipper against his skin. "You like...this. I...can...tell..." Illya was gasping, too, and all Napoleon could do was push back and drive Illya still deeper, harder. "She can't give...you...this." None of them could - none of the pretty blond girls in their short skirts and thigh holsters.
And then, without waiting for Napoleon, who didn't care, Illya shuddered and panted and filled him, pressing him against the wall, only his shirttails protecting it. And then, as Napoleon whimpered softly, he pulled out, and Napoleon could feel his shirt being used as a towel. "Turn around."
Napoleon obeyed, leaning back against the wall, not daring to look, knowing that Illya, all blond and black clothing, was kneeling in front of him, taking him into that perfect mouth just long enough for Napoleon to fill it, knowing that Illya would consume every drop, which only made him come the harder.
"Do not make me watch you with the young ladies again, Napoleon. We Russians, we get very jealous." Napoleon opened his eyes to see Illya licking his lips and smiling.
Napoleon smiled back. "You'll need to find a better way to discourage me."
Illya smiled. "When you get cleaned up, we will have that coffee. It will be perfect by then."