July 31, 1964
Hallway leading to Illya's apartment
133 Broadway Street
New York City, New York
1:30 A.M.

Napoleon saw Illya to his apartment, despite his loud protests to the contrary. His hand lay stationery on his elbow as they walked up the two flights of stairs. Illya had remained silent for the past two hours and he couldn't help but wonder exactly what it was that his partner was thinking.

Napoleon sneaked a sidelong glance at him and he saw him staring at him with a most curious expression on his face; when he noticed Napoleon's blue eyes fixed on him, he blushed and looked away, biting his lip.

"Are you all right, Peril?"

"Fine!" Illya practically barked out the word. "I'm fine! Nothing for you to worry about, Cowboy!"

Normally, that would have put an end to the discussion but this time Napoleon was determined that it would not be. There was something odd going on here with his partner's behavior and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Why does it bother me so much that he's acting so oddly? Napoleon bit his lip as he and Illya continued on their way. I know damned well that its more than just work related; there's something else...

He was also aware that his heart was beating faster the longer he looked at Illya and that also puzzled him.

What is this feeling? And why Illya?

Napoleon stopped in the deserted hallway, squaring his jaw. Illya, looking at the floor, was still walking forward when the hand on his arm stopped him and he jerked his head up to stare at him, his face pale, his cheeks brick red.

"Illya, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" His voice was soft and he couldn't meet his gaze.

"You know precisely what I mean, Peril." Napoleon leaned over, reaching out with his right hand, cupping his partner's chin and gently pulling it upward, making Illya lift his head to look squarely at him, Napoleon's expression sympathetic. "What's really troubling you? And don't bother to deny it; we both know better than that."

Illya scowled. "You sound so sure, Cowboy," he replied mockingly, his mouth twitching at the corners though he made no move to pull his arm away. "Are you sure that it is you who should be asking that question of me?"

Damn. He has a point.

"Don't try to sidestep the issue, Illya." Napoleon's tone was terse, his face angry. For some reason he was hard-pressed to explain, his partner's reticence was starting to irritate him.

Illya glared at him but made no reply, mumbling something in Russian under his breath, his eyes dropping once again to look at the floor.

"Cowboy..." he started to say but Napoleon cut him off, his fingers tightening on his arm.

"No, Peril. This is too important-YOU'RE too important-for me to let this go."

Napoleon wasn't even aware of the words that had come out of his mouth when he saw Illya's stunned expression when he whipped his head around to look at him in utter confusion, though his eyes bespoke hope.

What...? Why is Illya looking at me like that?

"Peril?" His voice was questioning, confused.

Illya's mouth worked for a bit until he was finally able to speak. "What... what... did you just say?"

Napoleon's brow furrowed. Before he had a chance to open his mouth to say anything, Illya continued.

"What did you mean by "I was too important" for you to let this go?"

"I..." Napoleon bit his lip. The words had come so effortlessly to his lips that he was stunned by the ease in which they had. He'd spent so much time in the past few months wondering exactly what his feelings for his partner were and why he felt the way he did. Illya had, in the space of eleven months, become important to him not just as his partner but, as he was now discovering, something much more.

Napoleon blinked, swallowing hard while Illya continued to look at him with that enigmatic expression on his face. He had stopped haranguing him a few moments before and just stared at him in tense silence, his eyes flickering downward to look at the carpeted hallway floor.

Illya...

Napoleon didn't allow himself any time for thought as he stepped slowly forward, his head tilting slightly to the left. Illya's eyes flickered upward just in time to see his head moving closer to his own; he licked his lips, trembling slightly as Napoleon's head came forward, dipping at the proper moment for their lips to meet in a soft, butterfly kiss. It lasted only a few moments but for the two men, time seemed to stand still before Illya stepped away, his cheeks stained red.

"I never thought that you the shy, retiring type, Illya," he teased, rubbing the tip of his nose against his partner's, chuckling softly at the dirty look Illya threw at him.

"And you are too much of a flirt, Cowboy," he retorted sourly, his mouth twisting into a grimace, his eyes pained.

"Touche, Peril." Napoleon was soft as his hand slowly lifted, his fingertips brushing against his cheek with tender slowness. "But... you've captured me, Illya. I'm not sure how but you have."

"Don't play games with me, Cowboy." Illya's voice was an angry hiss, his hands clenching into fists at his side. "I'm not in the mood to be made a fool of and I-"

"I'm not, Illya," he interrupted, stung by the vehemence in his words and the hard stare he was giving him though his eyes were another matter altogether, "I promise."

What is it I'm feeling? Illya was right; he was a flirt and his reputation seemed to have preceded him in this instance. He thought nothing of flirting with a pretty woman and had, in fact, done so many times over the years but, somehow, this thing, whatever it was, with Illya wasn't the same. He may have been thought to be light in love-and he supposed that he had been in times past-but this... attraction... to Illya was something different altogether. He didn't want him to think that he would leave him since that was the very last thing he wanted to do.

I have no idea where this might lead but I know that I want to see where it goes.

Napoleon bit his lip as his fingers continued to caress Illya's cheek. "This...is all new to me, as well and I'm... having a difficult time figuring out as to what this really means but I am certain of one thing."

"And what's that?"

"That I desperately want to kiss you."

Illya swallowed hard, his eyes flickering to look once more at the floor before he lifted them again, looking searchingly at him; Napoleon held his gaze, his eyes shining. He meant what he'd said and he wanted to make certain that Illya knew it, too.

He wasn't sure exactly where this unexpected attraction would ultimately lead to-if anything-but he knew that he wanted to find out. If Illya were amenable, of course.

"Illya?" Napoleon's voice was anxious. He had never been in the position of the courted before and he didn't like the feeling of vulnerability. After what seemed like an eternity, Illya spoke.

"Cowboy..." That was all he said but the yearning in his voice made his feelings perfectly clear.

"Peril..." Napoleon's voice trailed off as Illya leaned forward, pressing his mouth hard against his, wrapping his arms around Napoleon's neck while Napoleon rested his hands lightly on Illya's hips.

For many long, wonderful moments, the two embraced, Illya's tongue feathering over his in clear invitation and Napoleon opened his mouth eagerly, welcoming the intimacy as it slid into his mouth, tangling with his. They deepened the kiss, soft, muffled moans coming from their co-joined mouths as they explored each other, Napoleon's hands sliding slowly over his hips to rest lightly on the small of his back, his fingers tightening briefly before they loosened again.

When they at last parted, both men had identical expressions on their faces: very, very happy though filled with wonder at the turn the events that had occurred. Iilya's eyes shone brightly and Napoleon's breath was taken away at the intensity of feeling he saw there.

"Well, then, Peril, it seems that we have come to an agreement." Napoleon chuckled softly as he rubbed the tip of his nose against Illya's.

"Indeed, Cowboy. It seems that we have."

"Well then-" Napoleon gestured with his head toward the door "-why don't we take this inside where we can... explore ... privately?"

Illya smiled as he slowly backed Napoleon toward the door. One of his arms unwrapped from around his neck and fished in his pocket for the key which he then took out, put into the lock and twisted it to the right, smiling broadly as he heard the soft "click" as the lock opened.

"I insist, Cowboy," Illya murmured facetiously, chuckling softly as he pushed Napoleon through the open door backwards, never once relinquishing his hold on him until they were inside.

"Well then, it seems that I have no choice but to submit to your excellent judgement." He leaned forward quickly, planting a soft kiss on Illya's lips that was warmly returned.

"Indeed." Illya pressed soft, butterfly kisses against his lips, reaching out toward the door, his fingertips coming into contact with the cherry wood. "As you should."

Napoleon laughed.

"It's an offer that I can't refuse, Peril."

Illya grinned wolfishly as his mouth captured Napoleon's once more and he flicked his wrist, the door slamming shut behind them with a loud bang.

.:FIN:.