Chapter 9

It was late at night and Napoleon should have been home sleeping but instead he was in a less glamorous part of the city near Little Russia. He entered the four-story walkup, picked up Illya's bills from the mailbox and made his way up the stairs. He took out his keys and entered the small apartment. It was just as it had been last week when he stopped by to pay the rent, something he did in spite of Waverly's policies.

Napoleon put the new editions of Science Monthly and National Geographic on the table with the other unread magazines waiting for Illya's return. A small wisp of dust wafted up and glittered in the faint light of the full moon beaming through the window.

Napoleon walked around the spindly coffee table and sat on the old worn couch, a place Illya often slept when taking one of his catnaps. Something about the sparseness of the furnishings and worn well-used condition seemed to suit the Russian. Illya often went out of his way to criticize the CEA's extravagances. It was like a battle of lifestyles that neither of them would ever win but it didn't stop them from trying.

City noise filtered in and the famous New York traffic provided a constant background hum. Napoleon eyed the empty record jacket on the edge of the table and then got up to see if it was still on the player by the little television Illya rarely used. The surface of the LP was dirty so Napoleon blew on it a couple of times to clear away the grit. Then he turned on the player and set the record back down. He picked up the needle and placed it into a groove in the first track. A sweet Strauss composition began to swirl around the room. Napoleon was surprised since he thought his partner only liked Jazz. Perhaps his tastes were beginning to rub off on Illya.

Napoleon returned to the couch and sat down. He listened to the music and imagined feeling closer to Illya this way. He'd look after things until Illya came back. Closing his eyes he leaned back on the sofa and made it a private promise and Napoleon always kept his promises.

~oOo~

The yellow cab pulled up to the curb and the driver quickly got out fetching the passenger's luggage from the trunk. Napoleon pulled out the fare and a generous tip from his wallet. Then he picked up his bag and went to the check in counter. An eager Burke probably fuelled on one too many cups of coffee joined his new partner as soon as he spotted him.

"There you are! I went to your place to see if you wanted to ride with me to the airport but the doorman said you hadn't been home all night." He smirked and nudged the suave debonair agent. "Found a lady last night, huh?"

Napoleon smiled. It was strange that he hadn't even thought of that, even as some kind of excuse. "Something like that," he replied as he began to focus on the trip and actually finding Illya.

"I've heard about that ol' Solo charm," Burke said and nudged Napoleon again. The CEA took it in a good-natured way. "That redhead in the secretarial pool? She was really giving you the eye yesterday. I heard there was a bet on if she could catch you last night or not. Did you know the girls bet on you?"

Most of this was going in one ear and out the other as Napoleon moved forward in line. "Really?" he replied not really caring at this point.

"If I only had half the girls after me that you do I could start my own harem." He tipped his head toward Napoleon and wrinkled his brow. "Say. How do you keep them from killing each other over you anyway?"

Napoleon began to open his mouth but it was only to give a large charming smile and greet the check in clerk, as it was his turn in line. Burke noticed the immediate affect of that grin on the lady as her harried attitude mellowed like she was melting in the handsome man's presence.

~oOo~

In the dusty dimly lit drinking house in Villa de Etla, a grimy boatman swayed slightly as he leaned on the bar trying to impress a woman beside him. She was the kind of woman that got better looking and more alluring with each drink downed by the suitor.

"Hidalgo. You are a naughty man. Why would you make such a suggestion to a lady?" she laughed with him. Another few minutes and she'd have him eating out of her hand.

He shook his head flashing the gold tooth at her. "Carmelita Rosanna. I am a gentleman. I assure you. Here," he said taking out the silver money clip that held his latest payment for delivery of cargo to his employers. The ferryman peeled off one of the bills and offered it to her. "I give you a gift. You buy yourself something pretty."

She snatched the bill and stuffed it into her low cut blouse just over her heart while he watched with lurid fascination.

~oOo~

Illya couldn't help staring at the erection jutting out from Laheeb's groin. It was long and thick, twitching with anticipation. He swallowed hard. Laheeb smiled as though he could read Illya's mind. Probably could. Illya had no doubt his normal impassive expression was anything but impassive at the moment. No doubt his conflicting emotions were written on his face like a book. He wanted to touch the proud, hard cock. Feel it filling his hands, his mouth, his body. He also wanted to flee from it. To run from these terrible urges that he knew should disgust him, but somehow excited him instead.

Laheeb reached out and feathered Illya's hair with his fingers. "With your golden hair and sapphire eyes, you will be the jewel which will crown my bed. Come."

Illya gasped, his own cock jumping to full arousal as Laheeb took the chain around it in his hand and led him to the bed. He followed not as reluctantly as he would have hoped. He didn't want this! Did he? He shook himself mentally. Of course not. This was just a means to an end, nothing more. He didn't look forward to the feel of Laheeb's hot erection stabbing into him. He couldn't quite stifle a groan as he realized the more he tried to convince himself he didn't want it, the more aroused he became.

"Don't worry my sapphire." Laheeb halted and tilted his head, regarding Illya thoughtfully. "I think that is what I will call you. Sapphire." He smiled and turned Illya until the blond's back was to the bed, the backs of his knees pressing against the mattress. "Don't worry, Sapphire. I will not hurt you. On the contrary, I have been told by several of my slaves that I am a very thoughtful lover. I want you to experience pleasure because that will enhance my own." He wagged a finger in front of Illya's nose. "You must not come until I tell you to, though," he warned. "I want to be inside you and ready for my own orgasm when yours hits." His dark eyes grew dreamy. "When you come, the muscles of your lovely arse will contract and make my pleasure so much better. You see?"

Illya did see, much as he didn't want to. He saw it in his mind's eye and grew harder at the image. He mutely nodded.

"Good," Laheeb declared as he pushed Illya gently in the chest. "Now sit."

Illya obeyed, sitting uneasily on the edge of the bed. Only then did he realize the bed was at a height that put Laheeb's throbbing penis at the same level as Illya's mouth. He liked fellatio, not because he liked the feel of another man's penis in his mouth, but because he could imagine what it would feel like to have the man doing the same thing for him. By nature, Illya liked to control his sexual liaisons. Unfortunately, because all of his experiences with male sex placed him in a passive role, he had to sublimate his natural urges by visualizing himself in the dominant role while taking the passive. A mistake, he now knew. He'd derived pleasure from the fantasies and now his body responded positively to very negative stimuli. Of course, he was going to have to do the same thing now, too.

"You know what I want, Sapphire," Laheeb commanded, pushing the head of his cock against Illya's lips.

Illya drew a shaky breath and parted his lips, allowing the invasion. He was not practiced at this, but he had done it before and his fantasies had provided him with some technique. He drew the head of the Prince's cock into his hot, moist mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

Laheeb grunted and twined his hands into his new slave's hair. He watched his cock head being devoured by this golden beauty and groaned with delight and barely restrained desire. "More, my Sapphire. Take more of me," he rasped out.

Illya again obeyed, sucking the man deeper, just to the point of gagging. He licked the staff as he pulled it out again and repeated the maneuver. Laheeb threw his head back and started to gibber in Arabic.

After only a few repetitions, the Prince wrenched himself away, panting hard. His eyes burned with lust. "Get on the bed!" he commanded between breaths. "On your stomach!"

Said stomach lurched, anticipation and dread intertwining, fighting for control. Illya didn't bother to squelch one in favor of the other. He needed the anticipation to help him maintain his role. If that eroded, he was liable to kill the Prince. Not a good idea as his own chances of survival afterwards were slim. The dread helped him keep the illusion that he wasn't interested in sex with a man.

Either way, he had no choice for the moment, so he crawled onto the bed and positioned himself to be used by the Prince.

~oOo~