Man From UNCLE: Napoleon/Illya: Retirement Home
I have no idea what inspired it as it's terribly angsty. But having thought it all out in my head, I wrote it down.
Title: Promises
Author: Periwinkle
Word count: 666 (hmm...)
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin
Genre: Slash
Prompt: Looking For Retirement Home
Rated: PG
Summary: Illya and Napoleon have a disagreement after retirement
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction and not for profit.
PROMISES
By Periwinkle
Illya was sitting on his porch, enjoying the evening. Ever since he and Napoleon had finally retired from U.N.C.L.E. and moved to this little Cape Cod he had finally found peace. For the first time in his life, as far as he could remember, he was no longer worried about the future, no longer worried about Napoleon’s survival.
Going into the house to get a cup of tea he discovered Napoleon coming down the stairs, holding a suitcase. Stopping dead and putting his hands on his hips, Illya glared at Napoleon. “Napasha, no. Absolutely not. Remember what I told you?”
Napoleon, having reached the bottom of the stairs, put his suitcase down and spread his arms wide. A wide disarming grin appeared upon his face. “Ilyusha, it’s only for a few days. April needs my help. I can’t refuse her.”
The Ice Prince lived up to his name as frost colored every word of his reply, “I told you, ‘No’. Now that we are retired, I want to enjoy it; I’m tired of worrying about you. We’ve had this discussion before.”
Placating, Napoleon pleaded, “Just this once, I promise.”
“You promise. You’ve promised how many times before? Napoleon, this is not a thing you can keep doing to me. If you are going to persist in being an U.N.C.L.E. agent, then I can’t be with you. Retirement was meant to be a time of peace and quiet.”
Napoleon leaned over and gave Illya a long lingering kiss on the mouth. “No more, I promise. But I told April I’d be there.”
”So call her and tell her you can’t. Is U.N.C.L.E. more important than me?”
“Of course not. I’ll be back to you right away and I’ll show you how important you are,” Napoleon said over his shoulder as he headed out the door to his car.
-/-/-/-
Two days later, mission finished, Napoleon wearily climbed back up the stairs. He wanted notHing more than to sit down on the couch with his lover and let all his aching muscles rest. He hated to admit it, but even if Illya hadn’t ordered him to cease helping U.N.C.L.E., his body was telling him it was time to quit. Plus, Illya was right. He had promised several times before to stop; it was time to live up to that promise before he pushed the other man too far.
He opened the front door, disarmed the security system, and dropped his suitcase on the floor. The house was dark and quiet. Illya must be out somewhere. Odd, because the back of his neck was prickling, which usually meant something was wrong behind him. He turned to look behind him and noticed that not only was Illya’s coat missing but so was the coat-tree. Illya must be in one of his redecorating moods again. When his partner was restless, he tended to take it out on the furniture.
Entering the dark living room, Napoleon went to sit on the couch, after first checking that Illya hadn’t moved it. It was in its usual place and so he sank down gratefully on it, figuring he would just sit in the dark and relax until the other man returned home.
He slumped for a few moments, half asleep, and then realized that something felt odd. Reaching over to the table light, he turned it on and started looking around the room. Illya’s chair was missing. Where could the sneaky Russian have put it this time? Probably in his “library” as he usually spent most of his time there when Napoleon was gone. Napoleon walked to the library to check, opened the door, and stared in shock at empty bookshelves. Panicking now, he ran to the bedroom and threw open the closet door. It was also bare. He raced through the house, looking for a note, a clue, something to tell him what was going on. But there was nothing. And he knew that if Illya didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.
Illya was gone.