Class: Slash
Disclaimer: I don�t own them, darn!
Feb 14, 1972
�What do you mean you no longer have the painting? You said that you would sell it to me if I got five hundred dollars. Here is the money, now give me the painting!�
The blond Russian angrily glared at the elderly man standing behind the door of the museum gallery. The man only shrugged at the blond and shook his head, when he spoke it was in a British accent with a high and mighty attitude as if he of high class couldn�t be bothered with such a low class commoner.
�As I told you, Sir. I would have sold you the painting however yesterday a gentlemen came calling and since he had the money up front I sold him the painting.�
Illya grimaced at the man, the tension now almost visible on his body.
Several weeks ago, Illya had been sent to the museum with Napoleon to protect several important paintings that supposedly some high THRUSH officer had wanted to claim for himself and in the process Illya found himself facing his secret past up close and personal.
He had been walking in the modern art gallery when he spotted the nude painting of a golden haired youth seated next to a waterfalls lounging in the sunlight. When Illya saw the painting, it brought back pain filled memories. He had just entered the Sorbonne University and had taken an art course to try to get a few extra credits when he met Daniel. He was the teacher of the university and was to Illya at the time the most wisest and beautiful man he had ever met. Illya had found himself not only admiring the inspirational artist but that he had developed a crush, too.
Illya had always known he was different but because of his culture in Russia he had to hide those feelings in order to survive. But Daniel had broken down every wall Illya constructed and in the process Illya had fallen in love for the first time- and the last time.
Illya never forgot the day that Daniel had taken him to a private location where Daniel wanted to do some scenic painting. They had just made love under the falls and the inspired artist wanted to work out his new brushes. Half asleep, Illya didn�t realize he himself would become the focus of Daniels next painting.
When Illya found the portrait a few days later, in utter shame, Illya demanded the painting to be destroyed. But Daniel refused saying this was his masterpiece. It was then Illya saw Daniel�s true nature. He scoffed at the Russian, informing Illya that other than having the perfect stature, that was all that Illya had. Making love to him was like making love to an iceberg.
The words had stung and they had stayed with him years later. Daniel had even threatened Illya that if any rumor�s were started about this he would give the painting over to the KGB. Desperate to keep his secret, Illya snuck into the teachers building to steal the painting only to find it was missing. Not all was lost however, a female student stepped forward informing the chairman that she was pregnant with Daniel�s child. It seemed he also liked the fairer sex as well.
Daniel transferred a few days later and Illya never saw him or the portrait again. As the years passed, Illya found his anxiety disappear and he allowed himself to forget the one mistake in his life. Until a few weeks ago.
Illya had a wonderful life now. He worked for UNCLE and had in the past seven years made a name for himself. Everyone respected him (and were just a bit afraid of the mad Russian), and had his own round of friends. Including Napoleon Solo. His American partner. Illya had grown fond of the spoiled American. No longer competitive, they enjoyed each others friendship and comradely.
Seeing the portrait, Illya�s fears had reawakened. His private and secure life was now in jeopardy including his reputation. If there boss saw this? What would Waverly think? What would Napoleon think? His thoughts strayed to his partner.
Napoleon Solo, the great lover and romancer of women. In the beginning of their partnership Illya had thought his partner was the most conceited and vain person he had ever met. Of course, Illya had soon seen past the facade. The lonely man inside. In time Illya had even come to admire the American, and perhaps, just a little, developed a fondness for him.
�Oh hell, admit it Illya. You found him damn attractive and sometimes, just sometimes, you wondered just what it would be like to be the center of Napoleon�s affections. Of course, that just couldn�t be.�
Dipping into his retirement savings, Illya had begged the curator to let him buy the painting but the price had been high for a modern piece of art and it took time for Illya to get the amount. Now the man was telling him he had already sold it! But to who? Who would have wanted his painting? Who would have seen it?
�Who? Who did you sell it to?�
�Oh, young gentlemen. American. Didn�t rightly get his name. He hung around my niece quite a bit.�
Illya�s eyes narrowed. No, it couldn�t be. He couldn�t possibly have seen the painting. I kept Napoleon far and away from that part of the gallery.
Illya�s lowered his head with his jaw starting to tighten. Damn!
Without another word, Illya spun on his heels and hurried away.
The British Curator shrugged and closed the door behind him. Russians, they are just so crude. Low lifes that�s all they are.
***
Napoleon was just getting the finishing touches done when he heard the knock on the door. He smiled and fixing his tie hurried to answer the door.
�Yes?� Trying to look surprised, Napoleon grinned at his partner who looked like one of those little boys who had just been caught in a misdeed.
"Illya, how wonderful to see you this evening. I was just preparing a nice meal, care to join me?�
Illya brushed into the room with his arms tightly wrapped around himself. Once Napoleon closed the door, his smile faded slightly. He could see that Illya looked more then unsettled, he looked almost ashamed.
�I made my famous Italian spaghetti.�
�Where is it?� Illya replied back just barely keeping his temper under control.
�Where is what?�
Napoleon pretended to not understand and made his way into the kitchen. Illya followed, and ignoring the tasty meal being cooked he faced Napoleon almost pleadingly.
�How much do you want? Or should I say what is it you want for exchange of the painting? Six months of doing all the paperwork? What? Just tell me?�
Stirring the sauce, Napoleon turned to Illya with a smile.
�Do you know what today is? It�s Valentines day. An American tradition for everyone to find and seek out the ones that they love and care about and let them know there true feelings.�
Illya shrugged his shoulders, exasperated and at his wits end. �Napoleon, Please it was a mistake. I was young. I thought I was in love. I didn�t even know he had painted me, and when I found out.� Illya stopped clamping his mouth shut.
Napoleon didn�t even blink. �Illya, this is going to be my masterpiece so sit down and let�s eat.�
***
Napoleon dug in whole heartedly, while Illya played his fork around the plate of food. His eyes down cast and accepting the inevitable.
�Will you tell Mr. Waverly?�
Napoleon shook his head. �You're not eating.�
Then seeing the sadness on his partners face, he finally gave in partly.
�No, Illya. I am not going to tell or show Mr. Waverly anything. Now eat.�
Gingerly, Illya took several bites.
�How did you happen to see it?� Asked Illya. He thought he had done such a good job in keeping Napoleon preoccupied with the Curators niece. She was pretty and young and just Napoleon�s taste.
�You thought you did a pretty job keeping me busy with Fallon. But, my dear friend I have worked with you for far too long. So after the case and before I headed back to HQ, I took a brief trip to the one part of the museum I didn�t get to see.�
Illya swallowed. �Again I ask, what is your price?�
�Ahem, two million dollars American? The painting of Mona Lisa and All the gold in Fort Knox.� Napoleon added a sneer and smug cackle and Illya looked at him as if he was nuts. Becoming more serious he shrugged. �Ok, how about six months of paperwork and....�
Illya waited for the blow to come, what he got however took him by surprise.
�You in bed with me.�
Illya�s face paled slightly.
Napoleon didn�t look away.
�What did you say?� Asked Illya almost stammering.
�You heard me. I want you.� He licked his lips in anticipation.
Illya swallowed. �Your joking?�
Napoleon shook his head in the negative, slowly, so Illya could clearly comprehend him.
�What? Your tired of all your conquests with women? Angelique isn�t dangerous enough anymore now you want to add a little fire into the pan?�
�More like Ice.� Napoleon chirped.
Illya shook his head and rose from his chair. �No. I thought you were my friend, you can�t be serious? Your...your...?�
�Heterosexual? Ahem, actually Bi is more the term I would use for myself. I have always as you said enjoyed the dangerous uncharted waters.�
Illya glared at him.
�I don�t understand. You can�t mean you want to have sex...with me?�
�Actually, yes, been wanting to have sex with you from the moment I met you. I always suspected that about you, but I couldn�t prove it my very secretive Russian. When I saw the painting I did a few inquiries, hope you don�t mind.�
Illya suddenly felt ill and sat back down. Napoleon softened his eyes, if he wasn�t careful, Illya was going to get sick and that would ruin a great meal. Besides, he had waited far too long to get Illya into this position.
�The artist in question lead a quiet life like yourself. It�s ok, Illya, he died a few years ago. Along with his secrets. Were you close to him?�
Illya nodded numbly. �At the time, yes. But he left shortly after. As far as he was concerned I was just another number to add to his list of conquests.�
�He was a jerk to do that to you.�
Illya decided to change the subject. As far as he was concerned Daniel was history. What ever feelings he had for the artist died a long time ago, buried under a mountain of ice.
�If I do this, you will give me the painting?� Asked the Russian.
�Yes.�
�I suppose you will still want to be my partner unless of course, the old Napoleon�s love them and leave him is still-�
Napoleon cut Illya off and in no uncertain terms replied. �You will not be leaving me. Period. I want my partner right where he is.�
Illya numbly nodded. �One night of sex with the untouchable Kuryakin. Of course, naturally, the great Lover Napoleon Solo would desire that which he has never had. Very well Napoleon.�
Illya rose and started at once to take his clothes off starting with his shirt. Napoleon almost choked on his wine as Illya began to undo his belt.
Napoleon watched as the Russian left the room heading directly for the master bedroom. Feeling aroused and guilty all at the same time. Strange. He had it all planned and now. Now he wasn�t so sure. He had longed for his partner for so long. Imagined all the scenarios that would get the blond into his bed. This had not been one of them. Deceit and betrayal, that was all Napoleon had seen in Illya�s eyes. �But he had been so sure...�
The Russian had been in Napoleon�s apartment before, many times, in the past seven years but though he knew where it was he had never entered Napoleon�s bedroom.
Upon entering it, Illya pulled his pants down along with his under wear and discarding it he got onto the bed.
�Ok Illya, get a grip. You�ve dreamed of this moment and now it's here. So what is the problem?� Illya glanced at himself from a nearby mirror on the wall and shivered.
�Because this is not how I had dreamed it would be. Not a one night stand.�
Holding his arms around himself, Illya suddenly remembered the cold words Daniel had thrown at him so long ago.
�Making love to you was like making love to an iceberg.� The Ice Prince?
Glancing around the room, Illya saw that the painting was not here. Napoleon wasn�t taking chances. Resolved, Illya waited and in the process his eyes caught sight of something on the side of the bed. A picture. A photo of himself and Napoleon perhaps caught on some rare moment. Illya wasn�t sure when it was taken but it had to be sometime during there first year together. Funny, why would Napoleon have wanted a picture of him in his bedroom? It was then that Illya could see in the photo that Napoleon�s eyes were on him. Looking at Illya with more then friendship. There was something else in the eyes.
There was also a small box next to the picture. Wrapped in a red ribbon. Illya saw it was addressed to him. Opening the box slowly, Illya was surprise to see that their were ashes in it. Just ashes.
Looking up, Illya saw Napoleon standing in the doorway.
�I burned it. So you see, I no longer have any hold on you.� Picking up the fallen pants and underwear Napoleon threw them to the bed. Sadly, Napoleon turned and walked out.
Illya looked at the pants and then at the picture and finally the box and suddenly everything made sense.
***
Napoleon was just putting some logs on the fire when two arms wrapped around his waist. Two cool lips brushed his neck.
�How long have you been in love with me?�
�Forever.� Was all Napoleon could reply.
�Why?�
�Don�t know, just happened. I fought it. I tried. For so long I buried it. I feared if you ever knew...I gave up all hope and settled for your partnership and friendship. Until I saw that painting and I thought to myself. That was a body that was meant to be loved and should have been mine. No, that I wanted for mine. So I thought maybe once I could perhaps hold you. I know it was rotten to do, but I was so desperate, and then...now I couldn�t�t bring myself to do it. To force you. I-I-�
�You love me?�
�Do you have to ask?�
�No.� Illya turned Napoleon to face him and a moment later a saddened Napoleon found his lips captured by the Russians.
Their tongues delved deep into the hot mouths tasting each other at first carefully and then hungrily.
Illya felt the hardening of his own cock meet Napoleons still clothed one. Stripping Napoleon quickly from his clothing Illya continued the kiss while Napoleon�s hands were all around the pale Russians touching and charting new territory.
They slowly slid to the ground in front of the marble fireplace and as the fire crackled Illya pulled Napoleons now nude body close to his.
After what seemed like a long time of kissing and holding, Illya whispered into Napoleons ear. �I hope you double checked the room for anything out of place?�
�Hmmm, naturally. All clear.� Napoleon replied trying to find Illya�s mouth again.
Illya smiled and returned the reaching kiss with his own.
***
In need, Napoleon and Illya returned to the bedroom where scooping up a small vile of gel from a draw Napoleon gently lowered Illya to the bed and pushed his legs apart.
Illya looked up into the eyes of his partner and friend with complete trust and love, such love that Napoleon almost forgot what he was doing.
In return, Illya hoped that this time he would be able to satisfy his partner. What if he didn�t?
Coating the anus area and then his own hardened cock, Napoleon put the vile aside and then pulled Illya closer into his arms. They kissed once more exploring there necks and chests. Illya found Napoleon�s collar bone his new favorite spot while Napoleon enjoyed the tasted of Illya�s earlobes. Sensitive areas were found and conquered in a matter of moments.
Feeling Illya start to tremble, Napoleon paused and looked deep into his lover�s eyes.
�Illya?�
Illya only smiled back at him. �I�m ok, just bad memories. Don�t stop.�
Napoleon took a deep breath and then kissed the blond Russian on the lips. The Russian melted.
He stretched the tight muscle slowly. Trying to take his time knowing that Illya had for far too long lived a sparse love life. Almost non existent. This would be his first time in a long time.
�Napasha.�
�Illyusha. I love you.�
�I love you, I never thought I would ever...could ever again.�
Napoleon nodded, Illya didn�t have to explain the betrayal of Daniel. Illya�s heart had been greatly wounded. He vowed then and there never again to allow anyone to hurt his Russian. No matter what, he would keep Illya�s heart safe and loved.
He turned Illya gently onto his stomach and then entered the Russian in one fluid movement. Illya gasped but not from pain. It had been so long that Illya had forgotten the feeling of completeness in this joining. A moment later when Napoleon found the prostate Illya felt his life flash before him. A hard life but now a wonderful life with new possibilities and love just in hands reach.
Damn, Illya was so tight. It was almost painful.
Moving slowly, Napoleon pressed Illya down into the bed, wrapping his hands tightly wrapped around the Russians own cock which had softened slightly from the first penetration and pulling gently and squeezing just the right amount to make the Russian hard again.
The duel attack nearly sent Illya over the edge. He cried out and gasped for air. Napoleon tightened his grip and pressed himself hard into the body. The tight muscle of Illya�s anus clenched and Napoleon thought he saw spots flashing before his eyes.
Illya withered uncontrollably, he felt like he was on fire. �Napasha!�
The moment came all too quickly and the ocean waves came crashing down over them. Napoleon came first, followed by Illya. Mingled with sweat and cum they clung together allowing the waves of orgasm wash over them.
***
For a long time they simply held each other. Illya gently stroked Napoleon�s chest while Napoleon�s hands kept the Russian snug and close against his body.
At the ringing of midnight, Illya turned to Napoleon and sadly closed his eyes.
�Valentine�s day is over.�
�But not the dream, Illya. My love.� Napoleon pulled Illya�s chin towards his own.
Napoleon grinned and let out a breath of fresh air.
�Oh yeah, Let�s just say...Hunka, hunka, burning love.�
Illya laughed. The past evaporating into an abyss.
Stroking Illya�s hair gently, Napoleon was determined to get this right.
�Now that I have you, I won�t give you up. Illya, be mine. For today, tomorrow and forever? Not because of the painting but because you love me? I have been alone for so long. Please.�
In response, Illya kissed Napoleon�s chin and then laughed gently.
�Alone, no more. I love you Napoleon, I have always love you, I just didn�t know it... until now. Happy Valentine�s day. Forever yours�
And with that, Illya reached for the draw with the gel, and with a devilish smile he placed his right hand on Napoleon�s ass and checked out the curves. Napoleon lowered his eyes and smiling he replied.
�Forever mine.� Lips reached for each other and once more came together as one.
***
Epi-log
�Napasha, did you really burn the painting?�
Silence
�Napoleon?�
�I plead the fifth.�
�NAPOLEON!�
The end