FIC: Presents, MFU, For Sithdragn. ^_^
Jan. 25th, 2004 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keelywolfeHappy Birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sithdragn. This one is for you. This also does not count as a fannish activity, because it's a birthday present. ;)
Presents
by Keely
MFU
Illya/Napoleon.
NC-17
~~*~~
It wasn't that they hadn't had strange assignments before. In fact, Illya sometimes supposed that Waverly took a distinct, private delight in saving those particular assignments for his top agents; a way of keeping them on their toes, perhaps.
This assignment went a long way towards proving his argument.
"We are supposed to..." Illya's voice cracked in a way that he would not have allowed under any other circumstances, but perhaps with the duress of this situation, it could be understood. "Napoleon, you cannot be serious."
"I'm afraid I am," Napoleon leaned back in his chair and frowned at the file folder, absently propping his feet on his desk. "According to this letter we received this morning, THRUSH has threatened to release a chemical into the Super Bowl stadium that would work as an instant aphrodisiac. Anyone who had achieved puberty would be--" Napoleon glanced up and met Illya's glare, "I trust I don't need to describe what would happen."
"I'm sure my imagination is sufficient," Illya said, struggling to keep his tone dry. "And to prevent this from happening, all they require is that I...that you...we..." Surely he could be excused for this lapse in composure. Even Napoleon should understand.
"I'm supposed to give you a blowjob," Napoleon provided helpfully. The bastard was amused; Illya could see it practically dancing in his eyes.
"And what would be the purpose of this charade of sexual intimacy?" Illya snapped, trying to conceal his discomfort.
Napoleon shrugged, "Some sort of birthday gift, according to the letter. We're supposed to have one snapshot, delivered to this address, and they'll dismantle the gas device." He waved his hand in a vague gesture of 'whatever it is.'
"I don't see why we can't simply try to disarm whatever device it is they've planted," Illya muttered. He sincerely disliked giving in to THRUSH demands and this one in particular.
"Waverly says there's no time, and there isn't." Napoleon's smile always held an edge of charm; perhaps it was only Illya who could see that the edge was razor sharp and more than a little cutting. "It's all right, Illya," Napoleon purred. Really, there was no other word for it and it made something shiver up Illya's spine, not unpleasantly. "I promise I won't hurt you."
"I wasn't insulting your...Napoleon!" There was no denying the crack in his voice that time, and if it had been allowable before, then this moment was certainly second on the list. Disturbing wasn't the word for his feelings about his partner sliding to the floor in front of him but for all his skill with languages, he couldn't think of another one. "You want to do this now?"
"No better time. If we get it over with, maybe you'll have another assignment by this afternoon." The man was always so cruel with his mocking and his hands, so warm on Illya's knees, were destroying his usual ability to think of a sharp response.
It was his duty, his mind reminded him as he weakly leaned back in his chair and allowed Napoleon to unzip his pants, his hands gentle and coaxing as they slid within. His duty to obey commands, to keep innocents safe from any nefarious THRUSH schemes, only his duty, nothing more.
But duty didn't explain why he was trembling as Napoleon rested his cheek against Illya's thigh, why he was already hard before Napoleon slid his fingers gently over the head of his cock.
He met Napoleon's eyes, terrified in a way that he could never admit to over what he might see in them. The tenderness within them was almost worse than any sardonic amusement and he couldn't look away as Napoleon inched forward, his lips parted in anticipation.
The first touch of Napoleon's tongue made him hiss, his breath coming in loudly between his gritted teeth. The barely wet scrape of it, curling around his shaft was so completely unexpected that he cursed, his hands catching on Napoleon's shoulders. Duty, just duty, was making him clutch Napoleon closer, pushing himself into the sweet, wet heat of his mouth and finding it so welcoming, Napoleon so utterly pliant that he allowed it.
It shouldn't have been a shock to find Napoleon was so skilled at this. Of course he would be, Napoleon excelled in any of the sexual arts. He had probably done this a dozen, a hundred times before.
Illya flinched from the thought, his hands tightening on Napoleon shoulders, who took it as a command and sucked harder, brilliantly tight, wet suction surrounding him. It was almost enough to banish it, to dismiss the faint thought of Napoleon's sluttish nature from his mind, not quickly enough to stop him from thrusting upward, hard enough to feel Napoleon gag slightly before he recovered.
His duty, he should never forget this was his duty, and Illya subsided back into his chair, petting Napoleon's dark hair in some sort of apology. A moan vibrated up from Napoleon's throat, dragging a soft cry from Illya, and he barely saw the flash from behind his lids as he threw back his head and let go, coming harder than he might have imagined into the greedy heat of his partner's mouth.
He barely felt Napoleon pulling away, carefully rearranging Illya's clothes before he stood.
"This picture should do it." Illya managed to pry his eyes open and watched in a daze as Napoleon tucked a photo into an envelope. He only caught a glimpse of it, his own blonde hair stark in the picture before in vanished behind the seal. He wondered when Napoleon had set up the camera. "See? We saved a piece of the world today and didn't even have to leave our office. Don't you wish all of our affairs were this easy?"
Illya said nothing, wondered if Napoleon had caught the double meaning in his own words. He watched his partner seal the envelope, seeming as unaffected by what they had done as if they'd merely bumped into each other. Just a duty, he reminded himself. Not important at all.
"I'll give this to Waverly," Napoleon continued, tapping the envelope against Illya's forehead. "He didn't want us to deliver it ourselves. Just in case the recipients aren't happy with just a blowjob, eh?" He shook his head with a grin that made Illya feel a strange sickness low in his stomach.
Napoleon started to turn away and hesitated, his brow creased. "Oh, there was one other thing."
Illya barely had time to feel the breath against his lips before Napoleon's mouth was on his. Brutally, harshly, making no pretense of doing anything but stealing a kiss, his thumbs digging into Illya's chin and forcing his head upward as his tongue swept into Illya's mouth and simply took.
He never knew how he might have responded, had he been given a chance. If he would have thrust Napoleon away from him, violently if necessary, tearing their mouths apart. Or if perhaps he might have forgotten duty, forgotten innocents and only knew the casual violence of Napoleon's kiss. If he might have pulled him closer, knocking the neat stacks of papers on his desk to flutter down on the floor in a jumble, if he might have just...let him.
There was only time to stare as his partner as he pulled away, wide blue eyes meeting dark ones. Napoleon's thumb was tender as he swept it over lightly over Illya's lower lip, his gaze thoughtful, and then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him.
-finis-
sithdragn. This one is for you. This also does not count as a fannish activity, because it's a birthday present. ;)Presents
by Keely
MFU
Illya/Napoleon.
NC-17
~~*~~
It wasn't that they hadn't had strange assignments before. In fact, Illya sometimes supposed that Waverly took a distinct, private delight in saving those particular assignments for his top agents; a way of keeping them on their toes, perhaps.
This assignment went a long way towards proving his argument.
"We are supposed to..." Illya's voice cracked in a way that he would not have allowed under any other circumstances, but perhaps with the duress of this situation, it could be understood. "Napoleon, you cannot be serious."
"I'm afraid I am," Napoleon leaned back in his chair and frowned at the file folder, absently propping his feet on his desk. "According to this letter we received this morning, THRUSH has threatened to release a chemical into the Super Bowl stadium that would work as an instant aphrodisiac. Anyone who had achieved puberty would be--" Napoleon glanced up and met Illya's glare, "I trust I don't need to describe what would happen."
"I'm sure my imagination is sufficient," Illya said, struggling to keep his tone dry. "And to prevent this from happening, all they require is that I...that you...we..." Surely he could be excused for this lapse in composure. Even Napoleon should understand.
"I'm supposed to give you a blowjob," Napoleon provided helpfully. The bastard was amused; Illya could see it practically dancing in his eyes.
"And what would be the purpose of this charade of sexual intimacy?" Illya snapped, trying to conceal his discomfort.
Napoleon shrugged, "Some sort of birthday gift, according to the letter. We're supposed to have one snapshot, delivered to this address, and they'll dismantle the gas device." He waved his hand in a vague gesture of 'whatever it is.'
"I don't see why we can't simply try to disarm whatever device it is they've planted," Illya muttered. He sincerely disliked giving in to THRUSH demands and this one in particular.
"Waverly says there's no time, and there isn't." Napoleon's smile always held an edge of charm; perhaps it was only Illya who could see that the edge was razor sharp and more than a little cutting. "It's all right, Illya," Napoleon purred. Really, there was no other word for it and it made something shiver up Illya's spine, not unpleasantly. "I promise I won't hurt you."
"I wasn't insulting your...Napoleon!" There was no denying the crack in his voice that time, and if it had been allowable before, then this moment was certainly second on the list. Disturbing wasn't the word for his feelings about his partner sliding to the floor in front of him but for all his skill with languages, he couldn't think of another one. "You want to do this now?"
"No better time. If we get it over with, maybe you'll have another assignment by this afternoon." The man was always so cruel with his mocking and his hands, so warm on Illya's knees, were destroying his usual ability to think of a sharp response.
It was his duty, his mind reminded him as he weakly leaned back in his chair and allowed Napoleon to unzip his pants, his hands gentle and coaxing as they slid within. His duty to obey commands, to keep innocents safe from any nefarious THRUSH schemes, only his duty, nothing more.
But duty didn't explain why he was trembling as Napoleon rested his cheek against Illya's thigh, why he was already hard before Napoleon slid his fingers gently over the head of his cock.
He met Napoleon's eyes, terrified in a way that he could never admit to over what he might see in them. The tenderness within them was almost worse than any sardonic amusement and he couldn't look away as Napoleon inched forward, his lips parted in anticipation.
The first touch of Napoleon's tongue made him hiss, his breath coming in loudly between his gritted teeth. The barely wet scrape of it, curling around his shaft was so completely unexpected that he cursed, his hands catching on Napoleon's shoulders. Duty, just duty, was making him clutch Napoleon closer, pushing himself into the sweet, wet heat of his mouth and finding it so welcoming, Napoleon so utterly pliant that he allowed it.
It shouldn't have been a shock to find Napoleon was so skilled at this. Of course he would be, Napoleon excelled in any of the sexual arts. He had probably done this a dozen, a hundred times before.
Illya flinched from the thought, his hands tightening on Napoleon shoulders, who took it as a command and sucked harder, brilliantly tight, wet suction surrounding him. It was almost enough to banish it, to dismiss the faint thought of Napoleon's sluttish nature from his mind, not quickly enough to stop him from thrusting upward, hard enough to feel Napoleon gag slightly before he recovered.
His duty, he should never forget this was his duty, and Illya subsided back into his chair, petting Napoleon's dark hair in some sort of apology. A moan vibrated up from Napoleon's throat, dragging a soft cry from Illya, and he barely saw the flash from behind his lids as he threw back his head and let go, coming harder than he might have imagined into the greedy heat of his partner's mouth.
He barely felt Napoleon pulling away, carefully rearranging Illya's clothes before he stood.
"This picture should do it." Illya managed to pry his eyes open and watched in a daze as Napoleon tucked a photo into an envelope. He only caught a glimpse of it, his own blonde hair stark in the picture before in vanished behind the seal. He wondered when Napoleon had set up the camera. "See? We saved a piece of the world today and didn't even have to leave our office. Don't you wish all of our affairs were this easy?"
Illya said nothing, wondered if Napoleon had caught the double meaning in his own words. He watched his partner seal the envelope, seeming as unaffected by what they had done as if they'd merely bumped into each other. Just a duty, he reminded himself. Not important at all.
"I'll give this to Waverly," Napoleon continued, tapping the envelope against Illya's forehead. "He didn't want us to deliver it ourselves. Just in case the recipients aren't happy with just a blowjob, eh?" He shook his head with a grin that made Illya feel a strange sickness low in his stomach.
Napoleon started to turn away and hesitated, his brow creased. "Oh, there was one other thing."
Illya barely had time to feel the breath against his lips before Napoleon's mouth was on his. Brutally, harshly, making no pretense of doing anything but stealing a kiss, his thumbs digging into Illya's chin and forcing his head upward as his tongue swept into Illya's mouth and simply took.
He never knew how he might have responded, had he been given a chance. If he would have thrust Napoleon away from him, violently if necessary, tearing their mouths apart. Or if perhaps he might have forgotten duty, forgotten innocents and only knew the casual violence of Napoleon's kiss. If he might have pulled him closer, knocking the neat stacks of papers on his desk to flutter down on the floor in a jumble, if he might have just...let him.
There was only time to stare as his partner as he pulled away, wide blue eyes meeting dark ones. Napoleon's thumb was tender as he swept it over lightly over Illya's lower lip, his gaze thoughtful, and then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him.
-finis-
