Illya Kuryakin lounged against the sturdy headboard of the king-sized bed cradling the head Napoleon Solo in his lap and the rest of the sleeping form enfolded in the silken folds of his kaftan.

He ran one long slim finger over the handsome features, tracing each until he came to his favorite - the cleft in the strong chin.  Unable to resist he took the opportunity to tickle it.  The human stirred, slightly, and he stopped not wanting to disturb the most needed rest.

His finger continued its' exploration: the thick neck, the broad shoulders and chest - the latter lightly dusted with dark haair, the trim waist, well-muscled thighs and groin - here he lingered a few minutes contemplating the impressive shaft nestled in its bed of fine public hair.  "How easy it would be to take you, my magnificent one", Illya murmured to himself, resting the tip of his finger right on the head of Solo's penis.  The organ gave a slight twitch in response.  "You would have no choice but to obey and therein lies my dilemma", he continued. "I know I said we fear commitment, that it causes such anguish when Death finally comes to claim his due; yet I would gladly endure it to have you.  Do you possess the power to bewitch?"  He sighed and began to tremble.  "It has two and a half centuries since anyone provoked such feelings in me.  What surprises me most is, what I feel is not lust. Could Aphrodite have made me such an easy captive?  Could....?"

"Hi."

The deep gentle voice startled the vampire out of his revelry.  He had not felt the human stir.  Dark eyes filled with concern looked up into his.  He smiled.  "Good evening, Napoleon.  Did you sleep well?", he replied.

Solo moved to sit up and froze as he realized where he was.  "Uh, sorry", he whispered in apology.  "I must've been exhausted.  Didn't mean to hog the bed."

Illya's smile widened.  "Your body needed the rest and, trust me when I say, it was my pleasure to watch over you as you slept."

Solo blushed as he felt the silk caress his naked skin, not to mention finding his head was cradled in the vampire's lap.  His eyes filled with mischief.  "You make a nice pillow", he quipped.

Illya laughed. **Oh, that felt so good...to laugh in sheer delight!** "Why, thank you, Napoleon.  I will add that when I update my file."

Solo never got to reply.  A wind hurricane proportions blew in from the bedroom's balcony.  Both men froze, each automatically encircling the other in a protective embrace.

"Show yourself!", Illya commanded.

"You summoned me, Illya Nikovetch", a voice replied out of the maelstrom.