The Ghosts in the Castle Affair
Author: Athea (athea@netexpress.net)
Series: Man from Uncle
Date: 22 April 2000
Archive: MFU and my webpage:http://members.tripod.com/~AiR_WSW/Athea.html
This is the first in what may be a series. I'll know more when I finish it.

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Part seven
 
 

                      Illya awoke slowly.  For some reason he couldn't move and he wondered why that didn't frighten him.  Then the memories of the night before surged in and his eyes popped open.  All he could see was an expanse of olive skin that stretched before him.  The brown nipple a few inches from his cheek intrigued him and he remembered the feeling of Napoleon's hands pressing on his.

                      But if he moved, he might wake his bedmate and he wanted to have a  little more time to explore with just his eyes.  Tilting his head an inch, he saw the faint scattering of dark hair that arrowed down Napoleon's torso, only to be stopped by the duvet.  So, he looked up instead to the vulnerable throat exposed to him without any barrier of shirt or tie.  Then he smiled at the bristly chin.

                      Checking mentally for what the rest of his body could feel, he found his leg between Napoleon's.  His morning erection was drilling a hole into a hard hip but his partner's lay against the top of his leg.  The hair on Napoleon's legs tickled him all up and down his lower extremities.

                      His right hand lay on Napoleon's stomach under the duvet, the fine hairs soft beneath his fingers.  And so very close to that beautiful penis that he'd only gotten a brief glimpse of the night before.  Casting a quick look up, he saw that the brown eyes were still closed. Listening to the even beat of the heart beneath his ear, he decided that he had a little time to explore.

                      The room temperature was warm, so he gently slid the duvet farther down  their bodies.  For a moment, he was struck by the contrast of his pale  skin against the healthy golden glow of his partner's.  Then Illya began  to wonder what his hand would look like against Napoleon's stirring sex  and he moved the duvet a little faster.  When the dusky head was             revealed, he licked his lips in anticipation.

                      One of the things Sergei had taught him so tenderly was oral sex.   While Napoleon's penis was not as big as his mentor's was, it was a  beautiful organ.  Not too long at the moment but of a pleasing thickness that made his hand itch to encircle it.  He'd been circumcised and the clean lines pleased Illya.  He had the odd thought that he'd like to  begin to sketch again.

                      He chuckled silently.  Instead of birds, he would fill up his sketchbook with drawing after drawing of Napoleon's sex.  Nesting in the wiry dark curls, resting against the pale skin of Illya's leg, growing erect with a little help from gentle fingers, oh yes, he could definitely spend some time drawing.  His hand slid slowly down across  the flat stomach, through the crinkling curls of pubic hair and finally around the prize.  It was soft and warm and so alive within his loose grip.

                      The skin felt like silk beneath his fingertips.  Casting another look upwards, he saw the beginning of more rapid eye movement and knew that either meant Napoleon was starting a good dream or beginning to wake up.  He wouldn't have long to play uninterrupted so he very gently eased his way down Napoleon's side until he was eye to eye with the penis that    was standing so proudly now within his grip.

                      Oh, it was beautiful with its flaring head of plum and the single tear of clear fluid that wept from the small slit.  Illya licked his lips in  anticipation.  His fingers slid up and down gently, frictioning the organ to complete hardness before beginning to lick his way from the base up to the prize of bittersweet liquid.  It tasted of Napoleon, clean and slightly salty.

                      Nibbling around the flared top, he paused to lap the clear bead of  fluid.  It had been so long since he'd tasted another man that he'd forgotten how slick the semen felt on his tongue.  Protecting the delicate skin from his teeth, he stretched his lips around the head, engulfing it and swirling his tongue just over the throbbing vein.

                      "Illya, what are you doing?"  Napoleon's sleepy voice told him that  he'd have to speed things up.

                      Slowly, he relaxed his throat muscles and slid down until his nose was buried in Napoleon's groin.  Humming a bit, he felt the surge of muscles under his hand and knew that his partner was trying not to thrust up.

              Very slowly, he moved back up and went back to nibbling the edges of the darkening helmet of tender skin.

                      "Oh, God.  Your mouth should be declared a lethal weapon.  You don't  have to do that, Illya."  A warm hand stroked his cheek and he risked a look up into bright eyes.

                      Releasing his mouthful for a moment, he kept on sliding his hand up and  down.  "I know I don't, Pasha but you taste so good that I thought you wouldn't mind if I played."

                      "Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Illya.  I'd say my cock belongs  to you."

                      Illya felt a rush of possessiveness that he'd never felt before.  "He's  mine?  To do what I want with him?"

                      "He's all yours, love.  Whatever you do is just fine with me." Napoleon relaxed back onto the pillow but put an arm behind his head so he could see better.  "That's a very lustful grin, my friend.  Just what do you have planned?"

                      "Breakfast."  Illya went back to his single-minded worshipping of  Napoleon's cock.  Moving between the sprawled legs, he held the narrow hips down with his hands while he deep-throated him.

                      Strangled moans began to sound when he swallowed repeatedly.  Sliding back up and lapping the tender skin clean of more fluid then back down again to massage the whole cock.  He kept it up until the hips beneath his hands surged upwards.  "Illya!"

                      Grinning around his mouthful, he slid up and began to suck strongly.  He was soon rewarded with as much semen as he could swallow.  It pulsed out onto his tongue with abandon and he licked Napoleon clean with dedicated fervor.  He'd always wondered what his partner tasted like and now he knew.  Instant addiction.

                      "Come up here, Illya."  Strong hands pulled him up his body.  Napoleon kissed him with passion, scouring the taste of himself from Illya's  mouth.

                      Illya squirmed against him, his own erection forgotten until now.  It slid between them, stabbing Napoleon's stomach with need.  Then they were on their sides and a warm hand captured him, providing enough pressure for him to thrust into with a sob of relief.

                      "Come for me, love."  Napoleon was scattering kisses all over his face.

                      Panting now, Illya found himself babbling into a sweaty shoulder while  Napoleon milked him of his climax. "Oh."

                      Napoleon held him tightly.  "I find Russian to be a very sexy language when you are the one speaking it, Ilyusha.  What was it you said?"

                      Illya relaxed completely against him.  "Something silly probably.  It has been so long since another touched me with love, Pasha.  So very long."

                      Bringing his hand up from between them, Napoleon licked his fingers clean of Illya's seed while his partner watched in wide-eyed amazement.

                     "You taste good, Illya.  I may become addicted if that's all right with  you."

                     "Yes, Pasha.  You taste so very good to me.  Was it all right?  I  pleased you?"

 

                    Napoleon drew back a space.  "Of course you pleased me.  When you touch  me, I feel so strong, I could take on the world."  His fingers traced  Illya's lips.  "And your mouth is the sexiest thing I've seen in years."

                      Illya was beginning to get used to blushing.  He seemed to be doing  that a lot lately.  "I have no pretty words, Napoleon.  I have had no practice."

                      "Then you can practice on me until you feel comfortable, Illyusha. Your actions speak much louder than any words."  Napoleon sighed and kissed him gently.  "You've had your breakfast but I was thinking of  perhaps some food?"

                      "Semen is full of protein and has very few calories, Napoleon."  Illya  remembered that from some class or other.  "But some fruit and juice would be most welcome."

                      "Good, I'll order breakfast if you'll go start our bath."  Napoleon  smiled slyly.  "We should bathe together to conserve water."

                      Illya laughed out loud.  "Yes, Pasha, that would be best."

                      "I love your laugh.  I'm going to work very hard at making you laugh  every day."

                      "I would like that, Pasha."  Illya suddenly felt as if the room had begun to heat.  Napoleon's gaze was incandescent.

                      "Bath, Illya.  Go, before I decide to keep you in bed all morning." Napoleon closed his eyes and rolled away from him, taking deep breaths and lacing his fingers together on his chest.

                      Illya loved that reaction but left the bed regretfully to head for the bathroom.  He bent to pick up all their clothes from the floor. Turning to lay them at the foot of the bed, he surprised a lustful look on Napoleon's face.  "What?"

                      "You are so tempting when I see you move, like a dancer or the fencer  that I know you to be.  I always had to hide my interest but now I can  tell you flat out."

                      The wondering tone made Illya want to cry.  "You must use the shiny  reflective surfaces around us to disguise your gaze.  That's what I've  done the last five years."

                      "That long?"  Napoleon leaned up on one elbow and raised an eyebrow.

                      "I was so very lonely when Mr. Waverly accepted me into UNCLE.  I could  not believe that I would be good enough to partner with you but I resolved to do my very best."  He ducked his head, unsure that Napoleon  would want to hear this.

                      "Oh, love."  Napoleon slid across the sheets in a heartbeat, landing by the bed and pulling Illya into his arms.  "Never doubt that you've been the very best partner that I have ever had.  Even when I'm teasing you, I'm taken aback by your determination."

                      Illya rested against him.  "Truly, Pasha?"

                      "Truly, Illyusha."  Gentle lips took his in a tender kiss that went on and on until their stomachs growled in unison.

                      "Food, Illya.  Bath and food, in that order."  Napoleon pulled away and headed for the phone on the side table.

                      Illya smiled and went to do his partner's bidding.  Bathing with  Napoleon would be fun, especially in the big bathtub.  Turning the knobs  until the water gushed out, he popped the plug into the drain and turned to find the green bath oil from before.  It tinted the water to mint perfection and he took the time to lay down a towel on the floor so it  wouldn't be such a shock when they got out.

                      A whisper of air was his only warning to a pair of strong arms sliding  around his waist and the feel of a hard body all along his back.  For a   moment he was back at the University and he froze in shock.  Napoleon immediately loosened his grip and turned his partner around.

                      "Illya, what did I do wrong?  Talk to me."

                      He searched the caring gaze for a long moment.  "I . . . had a bad  memory.  You did nothing wrong, Napoleon."

                      The brown eyes narrowed in thought then he was being set aside while  Napoleon turned off the taps.  "Last one in has to scrub my back."

                      Illya managed a smile before sliding in at the other end of the tub. "I would like to scrub your back, Pasha."

                      "Good.  Then it's my turn to scrub yours."  Picking up the soap, he  lathered it well before dabbing some bubbles on Illya's nose and making  him sneeze.

                      They played with the soap for long moments while Illya began to relax slowly.  He knew it was too much to hope that Napoleon would not  question him about his reaction but perhaps by the time the question was asked, he'd be able to tell him about his single try for love.  They were not good memories and no matter how hard he tried, he could not           banish the pain that accompanied them.

                      Napoleon finished bathing each toe on his right foot, rinsing them then leaning in for a taste of pink flesh.  Illya couldn't help it; he had to laugh at the sensuous tickling sensation of a tongue between his toes.

              "Good.  You taste so very good.  When we're done in here and finished with breakfast, I'm going to lay you down on the bed and taste every square inch of you."

                      Illya blushed all the way down to his exceedingly well-loved toes. "Are you sure, Pasha?  I might not taste very good every where."

                      "Well, I won't know if I don't try, Illyusha.  I need a back rest, love, while we soak."  He turned around and scooted back until he could lay his head on Illya's shoulder, his back plastered to Illya's front. "You make a very nice cushion, my friend."

 

                       "I like being a Napoleon-pillow.  I hope to be one for sometime to come."  Illya stroked his fingers across the well-defined pectoral  muscles, softly fingering the dark nipples that rose out of the water at his touch.  "Does it feel all right?  I'm not pressing too hard?"

                      "Never, love.  Are your nipples very sensitive?"

                      "Yes.  It is why my shirts always look very worn.  I must wash them  twelve or thirteen times before I can wear them."  Illya stroked farther down to the flat stomach while letting his tongue dart out to taste a convenient ear.  Napoleon shivered and pressed back into the caress.

                      Napoleon caught his wandering fingers before they could go any  further.  "Take pity on an older man.  The way I feel right now, I'd explode if you so much as touched me.  No one has ever destroyed my control the way you do, Illyusha."

                      Illya blinked away sudden tears.  Napoleon had given control over to him, he would have to speak now.  "When I got to University, I was well  practiced in oral sex but had never experienced anything else.  Sergei  was well endowed . . . very well endowed and I was small for my age. But he instructed me in how it should be done and he had pleasured me          with his fingers so I would know what to expect.  He wanted me to fall in love and have that first time with someone who loved me too.  My  first year at school was a very lonely one.  I was there as a student of  the State since I had no family.  I worked in the gardens in my spare time to help repay the government for my care."

                      He paused, the memories welling up like the damned tears he wanted to shed.  "One day in my second year at the Library, a fellow student  approached me with a request for some help with an assignment.  His name  was Piot and we had a chemistry class together.  He was taller than I and very beautiful with strong almost aristocratic features.  He wasn't     in the least shy and was very popular with the other students.  I couldn't believe that he had singled me out for help.  I was very foolish.  Time went by and I convinced myself that I was in love with him.  It was almost the end of the semester and after our chemistry final; he invited me out for a drink to celebrate.  I think we drank  quite a bit and somehow he got me back to my room."

                      He paused and took a long shuddering breath.  Napoleon held his hands  tightly across his chest, turning his head just far enough to kiss the   pulse in his throat.  "I told him I loved him and he smiled at me.  He said he knew and that he wanted to make love with me.  I was ecstatic and we undressed each other with great haste.  He picked me up and threw      me on the bed before landing on top of me.  We kissed for some time and I took his penis in my mouth to pleasure him.  He was almost as big as Sergei and I told him that I'd never taken anyone inside of me.  Piot  just laughed and waited until he was as hard as could be before nudging me to the side and moving behind me.  I think I thought he would prepare me the way Sergei had showed me but instead he just shoved himself inside.  I remember screaming when I felt the tissues begin to tear and he laughed.  He said that blood was the best lubricant."

                      "Son of a bitch."  Napoleon's voice was low and deadly.  "If I ever meet him, I'm going to cut it off and make him eat it."

 

                       Illya shook his head blindly.  The tears were falling faster than he could blink them away.  If he didn't finish now, he never would.  "He fucked me until he came, pulled out and cleaned himself off before giving my bleeding ass a slap.  He told me I was a 'good fuck' and  whenever I needed to get 'relieved', I was to come to him so he could show me how it was done.  Then he thanked me for helping him with his chemistry class.  He had a bet with some of the others that he could get my help and get me into bed.  I began freezing at that point until there was nothing left that could ever hurt again."

                      Napoleon turned in his arms and gently kissed each tear track across his cheeks.  "I hate his guts and I've never even met him.  We don't ever have to do that if you don't want to.  I promise that there will never be anything but pleasure in our bed."

                      "You don't think I was foolish and stupid?"

                      "You have never been nor will you ever be stupid, my beautiful love. I'll tell you about my first foolishness at falling in love, Illyusha.  Another time.  Right now, we need to climb out of here and dry off so we can eat a good breakfast.  Then I'm going to show you just how wonderful I think you are.  If you trust me?"

                      Illya couldn't have managed a word to save his life at that point so he nodded and tried to smile at the man who tried to protect him from even his bad memories.  He let him pull him upright, watching with wide eyes at the sight of the gleaming body with water cascading over each muscle group.  And that sight loosened his voice.  "Pasha, you are so very      beautiful."

                      "Not as beautiful as you, love.  You look like a living, breathing statue from the Emperor's garden in fabled Antioch."  Napoleon's gaze was followed by a soft caress from his hands down his torso to either hip.  "But you're better than a statue because the blood is flowing just under your skin and I can feel your pulse beneath my fingers."

                      Blushing again, Illya stepped from the tub and reached for a towel to dry off with.  Napoleon stood beside him, taking the towel from his hands so he could gently rub the cloth over his entire body.  Illya  shivered but it wasn't from cold this time.  Only his partner could warm him with such a simple caress.  Taking the other towel, he began to dry the golden skin.

                      Breakfast would just have to wait.