Work Text:
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
by cosmosmariner
Summer Vacation Diary of I. N. Kuryakin
Here, I will document how I spent my free time on my vacation with Napoleon.
Day One: Went shopping. Purchased three new turtlenecks, one pair of red socks, and a pair of novelty underwear. Not sure why I purchased the underwear as I'll never wear them.
Day Two: Drove to the Finger Lakes. Will meet Napoleon later in the week. Will try hand at fishing this evening.
Day Three: Read latest issue of Pravda, then fried yesterday evening's bounty with a load of chips and wrapped it in the paper. Obviously, the saying was still true: In the Truth, there is no news.
Day Four: Napoleon finally showed up at the cabin. He smelled of Arpège, which meant he must have rubbed up against one of his ladies before coming to our vacation place. His coat reeked, so I helpfully threw it in the lake.
Day Five: Napoleon's speaking to me again. Of course, this was after he threw me in the lake to retaliate for tossing his coat in yesterday. I caught another fish, but my fishing pole broke. Napoleon laughed at me and said my vacation was ruined, since the only thing I wanted to do on this vacation was fish and read. I told him he was wrong, and I had other things in mind...
Day Six: I told my partner I was going fishing. He asked how, since the pole was broken. I told him that I knew of other ways to fish. What I didn't tell him was that I had a small stick of dynamite secreted away for this very purpose.
Day Six, evening: Spent the rest of the afternoon in the other boat skimming the water's surface for splinters and dead fish. Admittedly, not one of my better ideas.
Day Seven: Napoleon and I drove to town to pick up more provisions. He seemed very sneaky when we returned to the cabin. I was going to fry more fish, but Napoleon hid the oil. Apparently, he is as sick of fish as I am...
Day Eight: I woke up on the floor next to Napoleon's bed, my pants still on, one sock hanging from my foot. He was stripped naked and his leg was lolling off his bed. I looked at his skin, which was almost golden brown from sunbathing on the lake shore for the last few days. I wanted to touch it... but I dare not. Walked into the kitchen and ate the last of the fish with a hunk of brown bread and butter. I put my socks back on, slipped on a t-shirt, and took a hike outside. I had to get away from Napoleon before I did something I'd regret...like bite his ass.
Day Eight, evening: No more fish, so we went back to town. There was an Italian restaurant. Napoleon was desperate for veal. I, on the other hand, wanted a vegetable. The Chianti was well worth the trip. We brought it back with us.
Day Nine: I woke up in Napoleon's bed. He threw his arm over my chest. The man is built like a metric ton of bricks. Still totally dressed; I need to stop drinking with him before bed.
Day Ten, evening: We had the rest of the Chianti from the night before with peanut butter and toast, straight from the jar. Sounds vile, but we didn't really care. I spilled a little of the wine on my shirt. The red bloomed on the fabric, so I took it off to soak. A drop or two remained on my skin. Napoleon bent down and licked it off of me. I couldn't help but laugh... finally, he realized that this place was good for something other than reading and fishing!
Day Eleven, afternoon: Napoleon's bed again. This time, the only thing I wore were socks...and a smile...
FIN