Rating: a soft R
Prompts: Jaded and Justify
Written for MFUWSS Beta Challenge
This was the best time. Napoleon was just on the edge of waking up. Everything was soft and sweet just like the body next to him. It shifted closer and a smile escaped the still sleeping agent’s lips.
Warm, willing, what more could a man ask for? He let his body answer for him, a physical reaction as old as man himself. He nestled his erection in a well of heat in the small of the woman’s back. She responded by pressing closer. Napoleon’s body woke a bit more at the encouragement.
He slipped an arm over the slender waist, making his way up to a supple breast. He stroke the stiff nipple and stroked the hair…
Wait? What the hell?
Napoleon came awake with a start. The woman in his arms was his partner and Napoleon has his erection shoved against Illya’s back, his fingers… oh, lord...
“I take it you are awake?” Illya’s voice was tinged with humor.
“Illya, I am so… Christ, I can’t even begin to… You are more than justified to take a swing at me.” Napoleon’s erection ran to hide behind the barn, hero to zero in nothing flat. Part of it was embarrassment, but another part was the disappointment that he’d now never be in that position again.
For a moment, Illya seemed conflicted, then he rolled away, just out of reach and smiled at the very embarrassed Napoleon.
“You cannot be responsible for what you do asleep, Napoleon.” Illya stretched and scratched his chest. “And I will admit I have been woken up with far less pleasant methods.”
Napoleon’s mind started to whirl with further explanations, then it stumbled. Less pleasant? Illya liked what I was doing? Suddenly, Napoleon’s erection started to sigh back to life. To avoid any more half-hearted apologies, he stumbled from the bed and went directly into the bathroom.
“You are going to get me into trouble,” he murmured, chastising his less-than-interested penis. For years, he’d cultivated the image of a jaded skirt chaser, a playboy, hell, a tom cat on the prowl. Mostly he enjoyed the company of the young women he took to bed, but it was never quite enough.
His life being as it was, it was easy enough to disappear for an evening and seek out a different sort of bed companion. He was always careful to investigate well and never go back to the same establishment twice in a row. It was dangerous and difficult and that certainly added to the excitement.
The thought that Illya might be of the same mind came back to Napoleon as he turned on the shower. The creaky pipes grumbled to life and Napoleon was glad it was the middle of the day. Otherwise, he’d have woken up half the hotel.
What was he thinking? Illya was just being polite and trying to downplay a bad situation. And yet Illya’s comment stayed with him through his shower and as he dried off. For its part, his penis had lost interest in the goings-on and returned to sleep. Napoleon sort of hoped it would continue that way until he managed to get dressed.
“It’s all yours,” he said as he stepped out of the bathroom. Illya hadn’t moved from the bed. Instead he stretched, the action pulling the sheet down to just above his groin.
Napoleon wanted to groan out loud, launch himself at his partner and thoroughly ravage Illya. He wanted to feel Illya’s skin against his and hear Illya cry out as he came.
There was a ghost of a smile on Illya’s lips. “I could say the same thing to you.” Illya’s attention was focused on Napoleon’s waist and he didn’t need to look to know what Illya was staring at.
In for a penny, Napoleon thought. “Careful with what you say, Illya. You might get more than you’d hoped for.”
Illya kicked off the sheet, revealing that his penis was as awake and interested at Napoleon’s. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
That was enough for Napoleon. He was to the bed in two strides, this room being just a hair bigger than the first one, and reached for Illya. There was a momentary grappling for power and somehow their lips managed to find each other.
As kisses went, it wasn’t the best or the worst, but it was certainly the most exciting one Napoleon had experienced in a long time. Illya’s tongue plundered his mouth and he Illya’s in turn.
Napoleon pulled away, panting. “Tell me this isn’t a dream. Tell me this is real.”
Illya’s hand found Napoleon’s penis and squeezed it. “Does this count as a pinch?”
Napoleon let himself moan, just a little, and thrusted into the hand. His eyes rolled back into his head as wet heat surrounded it and began to work up and down. “Illya, please…” He regretted the comment as the sensation left him.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Just the opposite.” Napoleon smiled wickedly. “I can’t quite reach you to return the favor.”