Work Text:
The Weekend
by Betsy
Napoleon Solo, CEA of UNCLE, North America and his partner, Illya Kuryakin, had just returned from a long and difficult mission. Neither partner had been injured for once, but the emotional drain of the mission had left them both exhausted. Fortunately, Alexander Waverly realized that the last six months had been especially rough on his best agents and had given them three days of vacation before he expected hem to return to the mountains of paperwork that had accumulated during their absence.
Illya Kuryakin was definitely feeling ill. He had lost his breakfast that morning and the normally voracious appetite had totally disappeared at lunchtime. Nevertheless, he was determined not to give in to the illness, and especially he was determined to not let his partner find out about his less-than-perfect health.
Therefore, when Napoleon stopped him in the corridor of UNCLE to ask him to drive to Connecticut for the weekend, Kuryakin hesitated.
"Napoleon, thank you for the invitation, but I have a great deal of laundry to do; my apartment needs cleaning, and I have several papers the lab wants me to look over. Why do you not ask one of your legions of females to go with you?"
This last question was very difficult for the blond to add because secretly, he was craving to go with his friend. Three full days - ALONE with Napoleon Solo was a dream come true, but the Russian was fearful that the legendary mother hen complex of Solo would kick in immediately if he discovered that his partner was not feeling tip-top.
The brown eyes took on a look of hurt and regret. "I didn't ask one of my females, as you put it, because I wanted you to go with me. I have a friend who has loaned me his house in Connecticut. It's near Woodmont and right on Long Island Sound. We might even be able to go sailing. I' m sorry; you said that you didn't want to go."
Illya looked into the eyes of the man he loved so much and knew he was lost. It was not smart to say yes, but he was Russian and used to carrying on in the face of adversity.
"I did not realize that your plans were so definite. I thought that you had invited a female and she had refused you; so I would be playing second violin."
Napoleon smiled his most beautiful smile. "Great, and it's second fiddle."
"I don't understand. Isn't a fiddle, a violin so why is what I said wrong?"
"Don't blame me my friend - blame it on the vagaries of the English language."
"I will never understand your language. What time shall we leave, and what will I be expected to bring?"
"I will pick you pick you up at 7:00 am. It's a little over 60 miles, but mostly interstate. Just bring yourself and a change of clothes, tovarish."
Illya gave his friend an icy stare, but merely replied, "I shall be ready.".
#################
The drive was extremely pleasant and since the two men were on vacation, THRUSH and the forces of evil were put on the backburner for the time being. Unfortunately, Illya's stomach area was just heating up. The motion of the car seemed to increase his discomfort.
Finally, after they had passed Bridgeport, Kuryakin could stand it no more. "Napoleon, could you please pull over as soon as possible, I do not feel well."
After taking one look at is friend, Solo found a shoulder area that seemed adequate. Kuryakin immediately exited the car, becoming violently ill. Solo got out of the car and went to aid his friend. After a few minutes the two men were able to return to the car, but Solo insisted that the blond lay down in the backseat and that they find a medical facility.
"That is not necessary, Napoleon, I just have a stomache. It must be something I ate."
"All right, what did you eat?"
Unfortunately, Kuryakin had to admit that he had eaten virtually nothing for a day and a half. That admission aroused Solo's concern even more.
"The town of Milford is nearby, we're going to find a hospital or doctor and have you checked out."
Glancing in the backseat, Solo noticed that his friend did not seem to be listening, but was definitely favoring his lower abdomen. Solo pulled back onto the highway and made very quick time to the town of Milford, where a hospital was available.
Parking near the emergency room entrance. Solo got out, expecting Illya to get up and go into the hospital. When his friend seemed unable to lift himself, Solo picked him up and carried him in. Napoleon shuddered as he carried his friend because Illya seemed to be in a great deal of pain. When the slender body emitted a deep groan of pain, Solo called out for immediate assistance.
A nurse and a doctor immediately came forward and within seconds Illya was on a gurney and being sent to the ER. Solo was not allowed to go in with his friend, but did provide necessary medical information to the admitting nurse.
After several minutes, one of the nurses came out to tell Solo that Mr. Kuryakin was being taken to OR for an emergency appendectomy.
Solo sat down in the surgical waiting room. His body felt cold and he shivered. **How long had his friend felt bad? What if they had been out in the middle of nowhere?**
After what seemed to be a long time, a green-clad figure approached Solo. He held out his hand and said, "I'm Dr. Mackensie. Your friend is doing well. It's a good thing that you got him here when you did. He must have been in quite a bit of pain, but fortunately, his appendix had not burst."
"Thank goodness. Can I see him?"
"He's in recovery now. If all is okay, he'll be up tomorrow and can be dismissed in a day or two. I understand you don't live around here. Why don't you get a motel room, and come back in the morning.?"
"All right, but could I just see him.? I promise not to bother him."
The doctor could see the concern in Solo's eyes and led him to the window of the recovery room. Leaving Solo there, the doctor left to check on another of his patients. Solo stood for quite a while. The beautiful blond hair was aglow from the sunshine coming through one of the windows. **Thank heavens Illya was going to be all right. What would I do without him?**
The very thought of losing his friend, devasted the handsome brunet. In just two short years, Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin had become the most important individual in Solo's life. It had not been easy, but Solo had finally broken through the thick layer of permafrost that the Ice Prince had built as protection. It was true that Solo had continued to date women, but his heart belonged to a beautiful, blue-eyed Russian that had entered his life two years before.
The only trouble was that Illya didn't feel the same way and knew nothing about Solo's feelings. Solo had hoped that this short trip to Connecticut would open up new horizons in their relationship, but now it was delayed. Why hadn't Illya told him that he wasn't feeling well?
That night was a restless night for Solo as he lay in his motel bed. He had stayed many times in motels and hotels, but found that the strange surroundings were not conducive to sleep unless his blond-haired friend was somewhere nearby. As a result of his insomnia, Solo woke early and decided to sit in the hospital waiting room until he could see Illya.
When he got to the hospital, however, turmoil surrounded room 124, Kuryakin's room. Solo rushed to his friend's room - only to find his blond friend, guarding his body against the plundering hordes in the guise of one 5' , 90 pound nurse who was attempting to bathe her recalcitrant patient.
"Napoleon, it is about time. Will you please tell this Attila the Hun to cease and desist.?"
The nurse looked completely determined to complete her mission even though her patience was about at an end. When she ran into the charm of one, Napoleon Solo, however, she quickly fell under his influence as so many had before.
Looking at her name plate and giving her, his best smile, Solo immediately made a friend when he said, "Uh, Nurse Ramona - what a beautiful name - my friend here is Russian and you know that not too any centuries ago they were barbarians. Please be patient with him.."
"Well. . . ."
"Would you let me talk to my friend? I am sure we can work out a compromise that will eliminate this problem."
"All right, I have to hand out some pills, and then I will return."
By that time Kuryakin had laid back down. He looked pale, but much better than the previous day. "Thank you, but what is this about being a barbarian?"
"You want to get out of here soon, don't you? You have to cooperate, tovarish"
"i WILL NOT BE BATHED BY A TEENAGER!"
"Now, Ilya she is a registered nurse so she can't be a teenager. What if I could get permission to bathe you? How about that?"
"Well. . ." Solo could not understand the grumbling and mumbling going on from that point.
When Nurse Ramona (with the beautiful name) returned, Solo presented his proposal but was told that was against hospital policy. The Russian permafrost immediately raised his hackles preparing to defend his body just as the Russians had defended Stalingrad several years before.
Fortunately, Doctor Mackensie entered the room at that time and understood immediately that a little compromise was better than all out warfare. "I'm sure there will be no problem with the . . uh, change in bathing arrangements. But, Mr. Kuryakin, since we are bending a little, you will have too as well. I know you have been demanding to leave here today, but I am going to insist that your part of the compromise is that you get up today and walk around, but not be discharged until tomorrow"
Silence permeated the room for a few seconds. Napoleon decided he needed to put in his two cents. "That sounds like a excellent plan, doesn't it tovarish?"
The blue eyes looked at him in a long-suffering manner, but he nodded his agreement. **After all, how bad can it be to stay a few more hours?, Napoleon will bathe me.**
Thankfully for everyone involved. The compromise went off without a hitch. The bath was enjoyed by everyone involved, and the blond stayed at the hospital. Solo promised to pick Illya up the next afternoon so they could return to New York, but after contacting Waverly, the two agents were given another week of vacation to allow Illya to recover.
This extended time gave Solo the opportunity to continue his plan. "Illya, do you want to return to New York, or do you want to go onto to Woodmont?"
The blond seemed to think it over; Solo held his breath. "I would not want to totally upset your plans. It was a difficult mission. You will need the rest. If we return to New York, surely Mr. Waverly will insist on the completion of our paperwork."
"Well, that certainly sounds enthusiastic!"
Illya smiled at his friend and pointed at his suitcase. "Oh, Napoleon. I have been waiting for hours to leave this place. Woodmont, Connecticut is infinitely preferable to laundry, clearning, and papers." The small laugh Kuryakin gave out revitalized the heart of his partner and friend.
Since Milford was only a short distance from Woodmont, the two men arrived at the house with quite a bit of the day still before them. Solo, however, insisted that the Russian rest while he unpacked and made the house more livable. Solo knew that his friend was tired, especially when he did not argue and went to his bedroom.
The next 3 days were idyllic. The two friends walked along the beach areas; went into Milford; read; talked, and enjoyed each other's companionship. The weather was wonderful so sailing was certainly possible, but Solo knew that Kuryakin did not like the water, so sailing was not on the menu.
As the week neared an end, Solo finally got up the courage to ask the question that had bothered him. "Illya, when did you start feeling ill?"
Looking directly into the beloved eyes, Illya knew he could not lie to his friend. "Friday evening."
"Friday evening? Before or after I asked you to come with me to Connecticut ?"
Illya wanted to respond, "After," but told the truth , "Before."
"That's why you said you had laundry and cleaning to do. You didn't want to come because you felt ill? Why did you agree?"
"You are mistaken, Napoleon. I . . .I wanted very much to go with you to Connecticut, but I did not want to be a burden to you, if I got sick. In the end that is exactly what happened."
Napoleon took several steps towards his friend, standing barely a foot apart. "Oh no, tovarish, you were not and never could be a burden to me. But, why would you want to come with me enough to endanger your health?"
The two men stared into each other's eyes. The look of love and affection was evident in both blue and brown eyes. Suddenly it was like a lightbulb turning on in the brown eyes.
"Oh!"
Suddenly there was no distance between the two men. They embraced and kissed with a passion that shook both of them. Tongues danced the oldest dance of all and ecstasy showered the two men's embrace.
Finally, they broke apart. "Illya, I don't want you to ever do anything like that again. You are too precious to me - your health is more important than a weekend."
Kuryakin dropped his eyes momentarily and then whispered, "Napoleon, you are the most important person in the world to me, I did not want to miss an opportunity to be with you."
"But, we are together all the time."
"Yes, but those are missions or in the office; this would have been time by ourselves."
The almost shy, insecure way that Illya said those words, almost broke Solo's heart. He realized that his womanizing must have hurt his friend.
"How long have you loved me?"
Looking deady serious, Kuryakin announced, "From the moment you defended
me when Kelsey had complained about Commies at UNCLE."
"But that was over two years ago!"
Illya whispered,"Yes. No one had ever come to my defense before. I . . .I was very grateful."
"And, I thought I had loved you a long time!"
"You love me?"
"Of course, tovarish. What did you think this weekend was going to be - a one weekend stand?"
"I did not know. I was . . .am prepared to accept whatever you are willing to give."
At those words, Napoleon Anthony Solo became angry. "You will never say that again. You are worth more to me than you can possibly know. You are not getting the leftovers in this relationship. You are getting my full love and commitment. This is not lust, although I do think that you have the most beautiful body in the world. Why do you think I wanted to bathe you?"
At those words, the blond blushed delightfully and hid his face in his friend's collarbone area.
"We still have two more days of vacation. Let's make the most of it."
Wickedly the Russian replied, "Yes, indeed, I understand the weather is perfect for sailing - let us rent a boat and take it out for a sail?"
"Listen, you crazy Russian. If you think that I am going to spend the next two days on a boat with a seasick blond, you got another think coming. I was thinking of that nice, warm bed lurking in the other room. How about that?"
Without further ado, the two men quickly shed their clothes and climbed into the aforementioned bed.
A brief wrestling match ensued with the blond successfully gaining the upperhand. Groins matched and rubbed each other. Licking of faces, lips and nipples occupied hours of bliss. Finally, however, Illya reached down to relieve his organ of the hard-on that resulted.
"No, let me."
Solo was a magnificent lover. He had infinite patience, but in this case, his need was so great that after only a few minutes of caresses and strokes, he swallowed Illya's cock to give total pleasure.
This was the moment the two friends and lovers had been waiting for. Within a few sucks, Illya climaxed sending streams of cream down Solo's throat. That action triggered Solo's own orgasm which spurted between the two bodies.
Finally, the two collapsed next to each other. The feeling of being one was wonderful. Solo finally got up to get a towel. After cleaning up the two of them, he snuggled down beside his friend.
"Are you all right?" Solo's hand explored the beautiful body, stopping at the incision from the appendectomy. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea since you just had that operation."
The pouty red lips leaned over and kissed his friend with a soul-searing kiss. "Napoleon Solo, if you think I would have missed this, just because of an appendix, you don't know your Russians."
"Well, my dear friend. That is a lack of understanding that I am going to have the great pleasure of correcting for the next 50 years or so."
"You are going to dump me after 50 years?"
"Well, now that I come to think of it, my Russian sugar plum, I might just keep you around to nibble on for a few more years than that."
Both men laughed and cuddled down, sleep overtaking them soon after.
THE END