"I want to get you on a slow boat to China!"
Illya moaned and pulled a pillow over his head. His partner was out of his mind.
"All by myself alone."
Illya managed to free a hand from the cocoon of sheets and blankets and fumbled around on the nightstand until he found his watch. "Six a.m.…? Why is he up at six a.m. on the first day of our vacation? And why does he always have to sing in the shower?"
"Get you and keep you in my arms evermore!"
Illya pulled the pillow off his head. Above Napoleon's off-key singing, he could hear the rain beating a steady tattoo on the roof of their bungalow and sighed. This is not what he expected.
When Napoleon had suggested coming to the shore, Illya had thought his partner crazy. Who on the East Coast went to the beach in April? Then Napoleon had pointed out that they could relax, lower their guard, and just regroup. As Napoleon started on the second chorus, Illya winced and got to his feet.
It was freezing in the small bungalow they had rented. While going to the shore in April had seemed folly, Illya had to concede that Napoleon was right. They did have the place to themselves. No prying eyes, no interruptions, just the shore, the wind and plenty of time to explore this new facet of their partnership. The segue from partners to lovers was as seamless and effortless as everything else they'd taken on together.
Illya grunted as he knelt to begin to work on the hearth. The fire he'd built last night was just ash now. Newspaper, followed by kindling and some smaller logs tented over them was enough to get things started. The fire blazed and the sap popped. Illya watched until the wood had caught.
He stood and then froze as a sharp crack of thunder plunged him into a murky darkness. He looked around for a lantern as an anxious voice called from the bathroom.
"Ah, Illya?"
"On it, Napoleon. Just stand still and I will be right there."
He grabbed a lantern from the mantel and lit it carefully, then carried it to the bathroom. Napoleon was peering out.
"Thanks." He pulled back the brightly flowered curtain and steam billowed out. "There's room for two."
"Only if you promise no funny stuff. The last thing either of us needs is an injury that defies explanation."
"No funny stuff." Napoleon held up a hand in promise.
That promise lasted about three minutes before that hand was roaming Illya's body. "Napoleon…?"
"I know – hands off, but you're so… edible. Know that I'm going to take you in front of the fire."
"Not if I take you first." A wet lingering kiss and Illya sighed. "This is nice." Illya glanced down at his penis and grinned. "And, look, an Easter miracle. Something else has risen."
Napoleon grinned. "Does it have a cream filling?"
"Guess you'll have to find out."