Illya leaned his head tiredly against the back of the old claw foot
              bathtub.  While it wasn't as big as the one in the B&B, it was still
              much nicer than the one in his former apartment.  It felt so good to
              finally stop moving.  He hoped that the others hadn't noticed that he
              wasn't pulling his own weight.  He knew that Napoleon's eagle eye had
              spotted his slowness and the one grimace he'd made when he bumped into
              the handrail after he almost slipped with the heavy bed frame.

                      "I don't suppose that it's big enough for both of us."  Napoleon's
              voice came from the doorway.

                      "Is April gone?"  Illya slowly turned his head to meet the heated
              gaze.  "I think two would fit if they were very friendly."

                      "Mark is walking her home and I told them that we were turning in."
              Shutting the door behind him, he peeled off his sweatshirt.  "I can be
              very friendly."

                      "I wonder how the acoustics are here.  Put another towel on the
              counter."  Illya watch in fascination at the still amazing sight of
              Napoleon's skin being revealed inch by inch.

                      "I think perhaps Mark heard something earlier.  He couldn't meet my
              eyes when I went down to say thank you."  Napoleon finished removing his
              socks and reached for a second towel to lay on top of Illya's.

                      "Do you think there will be a problem?"  Illya asked hesitantly.  It
              was too soon to have to worry about being 'outed'; he had heard it
              called.

                      "Probably not.  April is on our side and I expect she'll work on him."
              He stepped in between his legs and slowly sank backwards into the hot
              water, coming to rest with his back against Illya's chest.

                      Illya kissed the ear closest to him and ran the wash cloth over the
              almost hairless chest.  "How do you know that April knows and is all
              right with us?"

                      Napoleon turned his head on Illya's shoulder just far enough to reach
              his lips.  They kissed tenderly, enjoying the spices of their earlier
              meal.  When they separated, Illya tried to find the soap but found it
              bobbing just out of reach.  Napoleon obligingly caught it for him and
              handed it back before answering.

                      "She winked at me just before they left.  If I know her, she probably
              knew before we did.  She's a good friend."  He wiggled just a little
              when Illya soaped his groin.

                      "Why look, something is growing in our bathtub."  Illya said
              smilingly.  "Hm-m, it looks like it needs deflating."

                      "Deflating!"  Napoleon surged around and ended up nose to nose with
              him.  "I'll have you know that he's quite happy the way he is.  Oh look,
              something's come up."

                      Illya chortled happily while they washed each other haphazardly; both
              of them kneeling up to reach all available skin.  Rinsing off, Napoleon
              pulled the drain plug and stepped out onto the bath mat.  Illya stayed
              where he was, watching with bated breath the graceful movements of his
              partner.

                      "Come out, Illyusha.  You'll get all wrinkled like a prune."  Napoleon
              held out his hand and Illya let him help him out.  "Damn, that's a nasty
              bruise above your hip.  Was it the railing?"

                      "Probably, Pasha.  Perhaps you would like to rub it with Tiger's
              Balm?"  Illya wrapped the yellow towel around his hips and hung up the
              wrung out wash cloth.  He hated to leave the bathroom untidy.

                      "How about a massage all over?"  Napoleon pulled off Illya's towel and
              hung it up neatly by his.  "Which bed are we sleeping in tonight?"

                      "We slept in mine last night but this one is my new bed so we should
              christen it, yes?"  Illya strolled out and down the hall to his new
              door.  Skirting the boxes of still unopened books, he pulled back the
              cover and slid into bed.  He knew that Napoleon would quickly join him
              since they had not been apart for even a night since the village outside
              of Lucerne.

                      Warm skin slid next to him and he turned into Napoleon's arms.  That
              still had the power to amaze him and he searched the brown eyes for a
              clue as to why he was being so very loving.  Which Napoleon gave him,
              "Because you deserve to be loved and I love you with all my heart?"

                      Illya sighed and closed his eyes for the kiss that he knew was waiting
              for him.  Sliding one arm over Napoleon's hip, he stroked the satin skin
              at the base of his spine and enjoyed the arch of his body.  He still
              hadn't explored every square inch of his partner but that would come
              with time and he was beginning to think that they would have the time
              they needed.

                      When Napoleon broke away and reached for the massage oil he'd brought
              with him from the bathroom, Illya moved the pillow to the floor so he
              could lay on his stomach.  At the first touch of the oil warmed by
              gentle friction, he sighed and relaxed all over.  Napoleon straddled his
              narrow hips and started with his shoulders.

                      "Pasha, do you think that Mr. Waverly knows about us?"

                      "Perhaps, Illya.  If he does, he approves and if he doesn't, he still
              managed to put us right where we wanted to be.  I like living under one
              roof with you.  Your shoulders are in knots."

                      "That feels so very good, my friend."  Illya arched up just a bit and
              wiggled his hips in enjoyment.

                      "Hedonist."

                      "Decadent American."

                      "Tease."

                      "I never tease, Napasha.  Everything I have is yours.  Any part of me
              you want, you need only ask."  Illya sighed as the strong hands moved
              further down his back.  Napoleon slid back a little further and Illya
              felt his cock begin to stir at the strokes over his lower back that slid
              over his buttocks.

                      "I want all of you, Illyusha.  And I need to give you all of me.  Soon,
              love."  Gentle hands smoothed over his downy cheeks and a single finger
              traced his cleft, leaving behind the warm oil to trickle a drop or two
              inside of him.

                      He tried not to tense but the memories of the last time rose up to tear
              away his composure.  Napoleon's breath was warm on the backs of his
              thighs.  "Nothing you don't want, Illya.  Never anything that would hurt
              you."

                      "Oh, Pasha, I wish to not be frightened or to flinch from you.  I know
              you could never hurt me."  His voice shook and he wished with all his
              heart that he had come to terms with his rape many years before.

                      "Love, turn over."  His hands moved him around so he could look up.
              "How very beautiful you are, Illya.  Sometimes I can't believe that you
              want me in your bed."

                      "Always, Pasha, I always want you in all parts of my life.  Make the
              bad memories go away and replace them with good ones."  Illya slid his
              hands up the long arms that rested at his waist, tugging him down so
              they could kiss again.  He never tired of kissing Napoleon because each
              one was special and different.

                      And this one was delicious.  Some of the honey from the cannoli
              lingered on Napoleon's lips and Illya licked at them to make sure he got
              it all.  The whimper that resounded by his ear made him smile and
              redouble his efforts.  Their tongues tangled together and stroked skin
              to skin.  Hands moved slowly over flesh suddenly sensitive.

                      "Illya, I need to finish your massage.  Oh yes."  Napoleon tilted his
              head and sighed at the soft caress to his throat.  "I don't want you to
              be in pain."

                      Lifting his hips a fraction to encourage the matching of their groins,
              Illya thrust gently.  He sucked lightly at the base of Napoleon's throat
              and felt him shiver.  His hands slid down the long muscles to the base
              of his partner's spine and the reaction was all he could have asked for.

                      Napoleon rolled them again so that Illya lay on top of him, moving his
              legs to each side so he cradled his partner's body and matched them
              groin to groin.  "Now, I can finish your massage."

                      Illya laughed as strong hands kneaded his lower back.  "You have a one
              track mind, Pasha.  Oh, there."  He wriggled in ecstasy and felt both
              their cocks harden a little further.  Moving his lips lower, he traced
              Napoleon's collarbone and followed with a wet tongue.  The salty flesh
              was addicting and he settled in to indulge himself.

                      Remembering what Napoleon had told him the week before, he ventured a
              gentle suckle of the left nipple.  The reaction was satisfactory so he
              nibbled a bit and listened with satisfaction to the muffled moan.  He
              was so intent on his suckling that he almost missed the tantalizing
              caress of a finger down his crease.  But the nerve endings there enjoyed
              the stimulation and he thought for a moment before relaxing completely
              and letting Napoleon do as he wished.

                      A slick finger rubbed against the nerve rich area and Illya shivered
              before moving back up to claim Napoleon's mouth.  This kiss was a little
              more urgent and an oily hand slid around their hips between them to oil
              both cocks.  They began thrusting against each other more quickly,
              sliding together in gathering friction.  Illya felt his breath go short
              and he began to pant.

                      "That's it, my Illyusha.  Feel how much you turn me on.  Just touching
              you, tasting you and hearing those little moans makes me harder than
              I've ever been."  He encouraged Illya to bear down while he thrust up.

                      "Pasha!"  Illya let go the last of his controls and began to pulse out
              onto Napoleon's stomach.

                      "Yes!"  Napoleon moaned and joined him.  "So good, so very, very good."

                      Illya tucked his head into the curve of Napoleon's shoulder and
              throat.  "It's never been this good, Pasha.  Never, ever felt like
              this."
                      "It's your doing, Illyusha.  No one is as sexy as you."  Napoleon
              kissed the ear closest to him.

                      "You are the expert, Napasha.  But I never found this feeling of . . .
              freedom before when I tried to fumble my way through an affair.  It was
              easier to just not even try."  Illya sighed and wondered if he should
              get up to get a washcloth to clean them up.

                      "It's very selfish of me, Illya but I'm rather glad about that."
              Napoleon chuckled and rolled them over so they were face to face but now
              on their sides.  "It means that you won't be too critical of my
              lovemaking."

                      Illya smiled at the relaxed face on the pillow facing him.  "I can not
              be critical of someone who gives me so much pleasure.  So long as I am
              enough for you.  You must tell me if I am too slow."

                      "Never too slow, love.  We have a smorgasbord of pleasure in front of
              us and we're going to savor every morsel."  He smoothed the bangs from
              Illya's forehead.  "I love you more each day."

                      "I love you, too, Napasha.  I promise to enjoy everything we do."
              Illya nodded and smiled sleepily at his lover.

                      "Rest, love.  I'll get something to clean us up."  Napoleon rolled away
              and got to his feet, heading for the bathroom.  "I'll be right back."

                      Illya lay there and dragged a finger through the wetness on his
              stomach.  Bringing it to his lips, he tasted the combination of his and
              Napoleon's seed.  Salty and slightly bitter, he thought he might become
              addicted to the flavor.

                      "That is the most erotic thing I have ever seen."  Napoleon's voice
              from the doorway brought Illya's gaze to him, his finger still in his
              mouth.

                      He smiled and pulled out his finger with a 'pop'.  "I think I'm looking
              at the most erotic man I've ever seen."

                      "Not hardly, Illya."  Napoleon knelt on the bed and cleaned his
              stomach.  "I think we'll have to just agree that we find each other
              irresistible.  And that is God's honest truth."

                      "Yes, Pasha.  Completely irresistible."  Illya hid a yawn beneath his
              hand.  "I'm sorry to be sleepy so early."

                      Napoleon slid in beside him and pulled the covers up around their
              chins.  "I am too, love.  So go to sleep and dream of me because I'll be
              dreaming of you."

                      "Good night, Napoleon.  I think I shall like living with you."  Illya
              nestled in.
                      "Me too, Illya."  Napoleon settled his arm over Illya's stomach, giving
              him the comforting feeling of being anchored.

              *********************

                       The next morning, Illya found himself cooking breakfast for both
              Napoleon and Mark.  The blond agent had tried to tell him that he never
              ate breakfast but Illya was able to point to a mission in London where
              he'd eaten heartily every morning.  So, he'd put him to work juicing the
              fresh oranges they'd brought with them from Illya's apartment.

                      When Napoleon came down, impeccably dressed in the brown silk suit that
              Illya loved, he was set to watching the toaster while Illya finished the
              scrambled eggs.  When they all sat down at the breakfast table, he
              watched from the corner of his eye while Mark raised his forkful of eggs
              and began to chew.

                      "Wow, what's in these?  They taste great."  He said around his
              mouthful.

                      "I crumble feta cheese, a teaspoon of dill and finely minced onion in
              about three minutes before the eggs are done.  No salt though,
              Napoleon's blood pressure is high enough as it is."  Illya smiled and
              finished spreading the raspberry preserves on his whole-wheat toast.

                      "Well, they're just right.  Feta is salty enough that you wouldn't need
              more."  Mark happily dug in to the rest of his eggs.

                      "You see, Napoleon, Mark agrees with me."  Illya teased his partner.

                      "I gave in, didn't I?  But I'm not giving up butter and salt on my
              popcorn."  He pouted so delightfully that Illya was hard pressed to keep
              his expression neutral.

                      Mark was surprised into a laugh that almost sprayed his eggs across the
              table.  "You guys should have your own comedy act.  Thanks, Illya, I
              promise I won't try to skip breakfast again."

                      "It is the most important meal of the day, Mark.  At least that is what
              my Grandmother used to say."  Illya spoke of his family with
              trepidation, wondering what Mark would make of it.

                      "Yeah, I have to admit that my Grandmama said exactly the same thing.
              She had a way with a wooden spoon applied to the seat of my pants that
              reinforced it, too."  Mark grimaced comically and surprised Illya into a
              chuckle.

                      "My Nana was the same way.  It must be a grandmother thing."  Napoleon
              said with a pleased smile.

                      Illya hoped the peace at their breakfast table would spill out into the
              rest of their living together.  And perhaps even the rest of personnel
              at UNCLE headquarters would respond with kindness to the side of himself
              that he'd hidden for so long.  He could only hope that no one found out
              about he and his partner's changed status.  It seemed he was wishing for
              an awful lot lately.

                      But watching Napoleon's expressive face while he and Mark debated the
              use of cinnamon in pancakes, he felt the joy that had been his since
              Switzerland.  This special man had given him so much that he was truly
              blessed.  If showing a part of himself that he'd kept private would
              smooth their path then he would do so.  Not too much of course, that
              might prove too shocking to their co-workers.

                      He smiled while they put their dishes in the dishwasher, still arguing
              about maple syrup versus strawberry jam.  He could see that pancakes
              were in their near future.  They carefully locked the front door and
              split up.  Napoleon and he had to return the rental truck while Mark
              said he had a mission briefing at nine.

                      They were on their way before Napoleon noticed his smile.  "You look
              like you swallowed a tickle bug, as my Nana would say."

                      Illya laughed out loud.  "That is exactly what it feels like, Pasha.  I
              feel like there is laughter inside of me that wants to come out.  Do you
              think it will shock the people in my lab?"

                      "Yep, and I wish I could be there to see it.  But Mr. Waverly has me
              down for some kind of conference on new personnel.  Change is in the
              air, my friend.  Why should we be any different?"

                      "Perhaps all wishes are coming true, Napasha."  Illya said wistfully.

                      "Ours did.  And I thank God every day for you."  Napoleon's hand
              reached over to hold his.

                      "Me too, Pasha."  Illya squeezed back.  "Me too."