First Light

by Elise Madrid

The road wound along the side of the rocky outcropping, just yards from the sea, and then turned and deposited them next to the grass-fronted house.

"This is where we will be staying? A lighthouse?" Illya shook his head in wonder. "How in the world did you manage it?"

Napoleon grinned as he opened the car door. "It helps to have friends in high places."

They both got out of the car and walked around to the back. Napoleon popped the trunk and lifted out his suitcase.

"No, really, how did you manage it?" Illya asked. He grabbed the small duffel bag he’d brought along and slammed the trunk closed. He followed Napoleon up the small flight of stairs onto the porch that fronted the structure.

"They recently automated. No one lives in this part of the house anymore," Napoleon responded as he unlocked the door.

It was cold inside, and the air was slightly musty. Other than that, a person wouldn’t have been able to tell that no one lived here. "How long as this place been empty?" Illya asked.

"Not long." Napoleon dropped his suitcase next to the living room couch and pulled out his gun. First order of business was always to make sure that wherever they were staying was secure.

They split up, each taking half the house. After a thorough inspection, they returned to the living room.

Illya holstered his gun and grabbed his valise. "The bedroom is rather small, but will do."

"There’s a bigger one to the back. I think we’ll be more comfortable there," Napoleon offered with a wink.

Illya grinned back and followed his partner toward the back of the house.

Napoleon had been right. The rear bedroom was quite large, and dominated by the massive bed against its back wall. Windows to each side let in the afternoon light, and gave the room a warm glow. To the east, a set of French doors opened up onto the promontory. Illya walked over and peaked through the curtains. Waves crashed not a hundred feet away. "You said no one lives in this part of the house. Does that mean that someone lives upstairs?"

"There’s a caretaker, but he’s not here all the time since he oversees several lighthouses in the area. I think it’s more like an office than anything else."

Illya closed the drape. "What a shame. It’s a lovely house."

"Yes, it is." Napoleon had come up behind him and wrapped Illya in an embrace. "And we have it all to ourselves."

Illya smiled and let his head rest against Napoleon’s chest. They had the place for four days. Four days away from the demands of their job, four days away from the noise and frenetic pace of the city. Best of all, four days away from Napoleon’s women. He gave his head a small shake, trying to dislodge the unpleasant thought.

"What’s the matter?" Napoleon asked. He had been busy at Illya’s belt, the buckle hanging loosely to the side as Illya’s pants were unbuttoned and the zipper slowly lowered.

"Nothing. Nothing is the matter. I only thought that we should bring the food in before we do anything else. The car will swiftly warm in the afternoon sun."

"I think it can wait a few minutes, don’t you?"

He sucked in his breath as Napoleon slid his hand into his briefs, the man’s fingers wrapping around Illya’s already lifting cock. He turned his head to take Napoleon’s mouth in a deep and hungry kiss while Napoleon’s tightened fist kneaded the organ in its grasp. After a moment, Napoleon pulled back and dropped to his knees. He turned Illya around and pulled his pants and briefs down around his ankles in one swift motion.

Illya grabbed hold of Napoleon’s shoulders as he was expertly sucked off. It had surprised him at first, Napoleon being so good at sucking cock. He hadn’t known that his partner loved having sex with men perhaps more than he loved having sex with women.

He looked down. His organ glistened with saliva as it slid in and out of Napoleon’s mouth. He could feel Napoleon’s strong fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, holding him in place.

He tried to hold off, to let this pleasure last, but Napoleon’s greedy tongue was all over the place, first swirling around his erection and then lowering to swipe at his balls. Returning to his original focus, Napoleon poked its tip into the slit of Illya’s cock before sucking its entire length back in. Illya moaned, his head falling back as he relinquished himself into his partner’s eager mouth.

Napoleon had wrapped his arms around Illya’s legs, which was the only reason Illya didn’t slide down in a boneless puddle. After too short a while, Napoleon released the cock in his mouth and stood up, holding on to Illya all the while.

"We better go get the food," Illya said, his breathing normal again.

"Uh huh."

Illya chuckled. "Not the most intelligent response on your part."

"You’re supposed to be the brains of this outfit," Napoleon responded. Still, he released Illya and started toward the door, leering at Illya’s half-naked state as he did so.

Grumbling about Napoleon’s habit of not putting things away after he was finished playing with them, Illya bent over and pulled his pants back up. He really couldn’t complain. Napoleon was nothing if not a generous lover. Still, his clothes back in order, Illya decided to make sure that Napoleon wasn’t as careless with the food. He was already hungry.


"I’ve walked a lot of shores, but I can’t remember the last time I walked along one as magnificent as this one."

Napoleon nodded his agreement. They had decided to stretch their legs before dinner, and had gone a couple of miles before deciding to turn back. It had been difficult in places, traversing the rocky shoreline, but now the house was finally back in sight. "I remember the first time I saw it. Twelve, no fifteen years ago. After Korea, but before I’d become an agent. It took my breath away."

"What brought you here?"

"A girl, what else? We’d met in school. She was from around here somewhere. She’d always wanted to visit the place, so on spring break we decided to make the trip. Unfortunately, the view was the best part of it."

"I take it things did not go as planned."

"You could say that." Napoleon hesitated. "I don’t really want to talk about it. It was long ago, and has nothing to do with me now."

That was fine with Illya. He certainly could do without hearing about yet another of Napoleon’s conquests.

They walked in silence for awhile, which was also fine with Illya. They didn’t need to fill all their time with words. They hadn’t in a long time. Which was why he was surprised when Napoleon broke that silence.

"Do you remember the first time we were together?"

"You mean our first mission?"

"No," Napoleon gave him a look. "I mean the first time we went to bed together."

"Ah." Illya pretended to think about it. "It was about a year ago, wasn’t it?"

"It was exactly a year ago."

Illya’s brow lifted in surprise. He’d known the date. It had never occurred to him that Napoleon would. "Is that why you insisted on us spending the weekend together?"

"It’s a pretty big accomplishment, don’t you think?"

"Is it?" Illya thought it over and then nodded in agreement. "I suppose it is. Neither of us has been very good at long-term relationships. Even ones that aren’t exclusive."

"You got that right." Napoleon turned to look at him. "So, you do remember?"

"I just said I did."

"No, I mean where we were, what we were doing."

"Where are you going with this, Napoleon?"

Napoleon shrugged. "I don’t know." After a moment he added, "I remember. We were staying in that stupid house in some hick suburb. The mission was over, but Waverly wanted us to stay one more night to make sure that there were no loose ends."

Illya didn’t say anything, though he remembered every minute of it. Especially Napoleon coming into his room in the middle of the night.

"I’d been thinking about us, more and more. Wondering what it would be like, but pretty sure that it would be good." He chuckled. "And it was."

"I remember that I was surprised."

"That I swung both ways wasn’t something I’d made a habit of letting anyone know. Even you."

"Not just that. I was surprised that you wanted to have sex with me."

"Why would you think that? You’re a good looking man, Illya. The fact that I also liked you made it even better."

"What would you have done if I had refused?"

"Probably slit my throat," Napoleon jokingly replied. "Seriously, though, I knew you wouldn’t tell on me. But it would have made things extremely difficult between us."

"And now a year has passed."

"Yes, now a year has passed. Illya—"

"Who is that?" Illya asked. Ahead, an older man, somewhere in his late fifties to early sixties, walked along the side of the house.

Napoleon looked over. "I think it’s the lighthouse caretaker." His eyes narrowed. "Yes, that’s him. I wonder why he’s here."

"I think we’re about to find out," Illya said, as the man raised his arm and waved.

They approached slowly. While they kept their guns holstered, their coats effectively hiding them, they were more ready to pull them out if circumstances warranted.

"You the two staying here this weekend?" the man asked as they got within speaking distance.

"Uh, yes, we are," Napoleon replied.

"I left a note on the door when I didn’t get an answer. Thought you might want to know, there’s a storm blowing in."

Illya frowned as he scanned the sky. "It looks fine."

"Yeah, right now it does. But come midnight, and you’re going to be in for a show."

"Is it safe to stay?" Napoleon asked.

"Oh, sure. It’s nothing this old building can’t handle. There’s extra lanterns and candles in the pantry if the power goes out."

"Thank you—Mr. Wyatt, isn’t it?"

"That’s right. Well, I better get going. There’s a couple of other lighthouses I need to check on. Night like this, those lights better not fail."

They watched as Wyatt walked back to his car, got in and drove away.

"Are you sure he is who he says he is?"

Napoleon nodded. "I’m sure." He looked at Illya. "I know this is a silly question, but are you hungry?"

Illya gave him a look and started toward the house. A decidedly very silly question.

He heard Napoleon laugh, and then the sound of his footsteps as he rushed to catch up.


Illya pushed away from the table. "My compliments to the chef."

Napoleon picked up the wine bottle and refilled both their glasses. "I don’t cook often, but it’s nice to be appreciated when I do."

"That you most certainly are, my friend. As you well know, I can barely boil water."

"Ah, yes, another singular memory from our time in the suburbs." Napoleon leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Illya—"

The boom that interrupted him startled both men.

"He said there was a storm coming," Illya said as he rose and walked over to the east window. He pulled open the drapes. Sure enough, a dark mass of clouds was rapidly approaching.

Napoleon came up and stood by his side. "It’s lucky we both showered before dinner. Being electrocuted would certainly put a damper on the weekend."

"We should hurry and clean the kitchen in case we do lose power."

They were putting the plates away when a loud crack thundered right above them and the lights went out.

"You shouldn’t have said anything, Illya. You jinxed us."

"Yes, I have the power to change the future," Illya responded sarcastically. "But so much for catching up on my reading. Did you bring out the candles?"

"They’re over here somewhere," Napoleon responded from somewhere out of the dark.

Illya could here him shuffling slowly across the room. There was the sound of a match being struck and then a flare of light.

Napoleon lit two of the lanterns and handed one to Illya. "I purpose we retire to the bedroom, where you can watch the storm while I debauch you."

Illya couldn’t find any reason not to, so, with a nod, he followed Napoleon into the bedroom, though not before grabbing another bottle of wine and two glasses.


"Oh, god, Illya, yes, right there." Napoleon writhed against the bed as Illya sucked hard on the cock in his mouth.

They’d thrown open all the drapes in order to watch the storm, and now it gave them enough light so that Illya could see the look of pure abandon on Napoleon’s face.

Napoleon’s hands were threaded through Illya’s hair, as if making sure he didn’t go anywhere. As if he would. He was exactly where he wanted to be, on his knees between Napoleon’s legs. From that first night, he’d loved the feel of Napoleon’s cock in his mouth. Loved having the sort of power over the man that had his lover squirming and begging for more.

He stopped long enough to soak his fingers with his own saliva before returning to the organ bobbing in front of his face. As he twirled his tongue around the engorged organ, he cradled Napoleon’s balls and gently rolled the sac within his hand. He heard Napoleon moan and whisper his name. Emboldened, he moved his hand down and lightly touched his middle finger against Napoleon’s anus.

He felt Napoleon’s body stiffen for a moment, but then Napoleon surprised him by spreading his legs wider apart. Taking that as a good sign, he slowly pushed, until his finger was all the way inside. When there was still no dissent, he withdrew his finger almost all the way out, only to plow it back in, unhurriedly finger fucking his partner.

Napoleon’s hips rose to meet each impalement. His hands now tangled into the sheet and he cried out every time Illya caressed his prostate. The cock in his mouth seemed to grow bigger, and Illya knew that Napoleon was about to come.

Which is why it was a complete surprise to be pushed away. He knelt up, unable to keep the shock and hurt off of his face.

Napoleon’s eyes were only half open, yet he seemed to see everything he needed to see. He reached over to grab something from on top of the night stand and handed it to Illya. The small tube glistened in the half light. Illya stared at it, and then looked at Napoleon. His lover only nodded.

His hands lightly shook as Illya uncapped the tube and lubricant and applied it generously to himself. He touched Napoleon’s hip. "It would be better if you were to turn onto your stomach."

Without question, Napoleon did so. Then he brought his knees up and lowered his head onto the bed, turning his face to one side.

Illya took a deep breath. In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined that Napoleon would give himself to him. His partner had always played it cool, making light of what they had together. But something must have changed, and Illya was not going to question it. He centered his organ against Napoleon’s anus and began a slow push inside.

At first, there was no resistance. Napoleon’s body seem to welcome him in. Then he heard his partner’s intake of breath and the light tremor that coursed through his body. Illya stopped, his cock only halfway in.

"Are you all right?"

There was a moment of silence before Napoleon finally responded. "Yes, don’t stop now," he said, though his voice was tight and the sheet was grasped in both fists.

"Relax, Napoleon. It was hurt less."

Illya waited until he felt Napoleon’s body unclench before grabbing his hips and beginning a slow glide that only stopped when his groin pressed against Napoleon’s ass.

"Hold on, okay?" Napoleon sounded as if he wasn’t sure about this after all.

"Maybe I should pull out."

"No, just give me a minute. It feels... I don’t know." He squirmed around a bit, then blew out his breath. "Okay, but go slow."

Illya did, his own need subjugated to Napoleon’s comfort. But after a bit it got easier, to the point that he felt Napoleon’s hips start to push up to meet his thrusts.

Then Napoleon let out a long groan of pleasure.

After that, there was no stopping him. Illya thrust in and out, aware of only the feeling of his cock being enclosed by the heat of Napoleon’s body. That, and the clamor of sounds coming from the man beneath him. There were deep moans, and begging for more, and, yes, like that, right there, and please don’t stop.

He couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it. He continued thrusting, faster and harder, until he thought his heart would burst. Until the feeling overpowered him and could give no more. He thrust one more time, pushing in deep and filling his lover with his come.

Illya came back to earth with his head resting on Napoleon’s back, their bodies still joined.

"I think my knees are about to give out," Napoleon weakly said.

Illya came upright, reluctantly pulling his slowly deflating cock from Napoleon’s body. He fell to the side of the bed and looked over at his lover.

Napoleon’s eyes were closed, but the look on his face said it all. Illya had heard people talk about someone being thoroughly fucked. Now he knew what that looked like, because that was the look on Napoleon’s face.

"Did you like that?" Illya couldn’t help but ask.

Napoleon opened his eyes and lowered his legs with a groan. A look of distaste crossed his face and he rolled to his side. "It’s been years since I’ve had to watch out for the wet spots."


"The sheet’s wet. You weren’t the only one having fun, you know."

"Ah, I see." Illya started to rise, but was stopped by the firm grip on his wrist.

"It’ll dry. I don’t want you going anywhere."

Napoleon pulled him back to lie on the bed, then moved over to fit himself against Illya side. He rested his head on Illya’s chest while his arm circled Illya’s waist. Within seconds, Illya knew that he slept.

Though sleep was the last thing he wanted to do, Illya’s eyes drooped with fatigue. He shook his head, trying to stave it off. He wanted to experience this for as long as he could. The feel of Napoleon in his embrace like this was a new one. Always before, his partner would roll away, reinforcing the idea that what they had was only sex. Illya didn’t know what this all meant, but he wasn’t about to let sleep get in the way.

Nevertheless, he must have fallen asleep, for, when he awakened, several hours had passed. It was still dark, the luminous face of the clock on the bedside table reading 3:17a. Outside, the storm still raged, though to a lesser degree. He could hear the rain hitting against the windows, but the thunder sounded far away.

Illya looked over at his lover. Napoleon had rolled away, though not very far. In sleep, the mask that he wore had slipped, taking years with it. He looked young and unguarded, the young man he must have once been, before experience and heartbreak had caused him to create a barrier against all comers.

Illya was more than familiar with barriers, considering that he had one of his own. Different from Napoleon’s, but just as effective. Maybe, just maybe, they could finally drop those barriers, at least with each other. Be more to each other. Illya fervently hoped so.

He continued to watch Napoleon, until sleep once more stole over him.


Illya woke with a start. He looked over to find the bed next to him empty. He sat up and looked around. The bathroom door was open and no light shone from inside. What light there was was coming from outside. It must be near dawn.

Getting up, he pulled a pair of sweatpants from out of the drawer and threw on his robe. Stepping into his slippers, he grabbed his gun from his holster and padded silently over to the French doors leading outside.

He pushed aside the curtain. There, at the end of the rocky bluff, Napoleon stood. With a sigh of relief, Illya placed his gun on a nearby table and opened the door.

The sky was still overcast, except for a small strip that ran along the horizon. The clouds were cast in shades of pink and purple by the rising sun. Illya made his way over to Napoleon.

"What are you doing out here? It’s freezing," Illya complained.

With a smile, Napoleon opened his robe and pulled Illya along his side. "I wanted to see the sunrise."

"You have seen hundreds of sunrises," Illya said, though he was unable to hold onto his irritation. Not while in Napoleon’s arms.

"This one is different."

Illya peered at the swiftly ascending sun. "It looks the same to me."

"Oh, no, it’s not at all the same." Napoleon looked at him and smiled. "Do you want to know why?"

"I have a feeling you’re going to tell me no matter what I want."

Napoleon laughed. "That’s one of the things I love about you, Illya. Your sunny disposition. I do love you, you know," he added, no longer teasing. "Very much. It’s the thing I’ve been trying to tell you since we got here. It’s the reason we’re here."

"You love me?" Illya responded, unsure that he was hearing right.

"Yes, I do. I didn’t want to, but it sort of snuck up on me."

"You love me, but you don’t want to love me?" That sounded more like Napoleon. Illya started to pull away, but was firmly captured in Napoleon’s embrace.

"Wait, hear me out. I didn’t want to at first. I thought about how it would change things, change me. I didn’t want to be that dependent on a person again, because the last time I lost that person it almost killed me."

He gazed down at Illya. "And I think it really would kill me if I lost you, because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way I love you. I love you, Illya, and I want to be with you."

"You are with me."

"No, I mean just you and me. No one else. For either of us. It’s what I want more than anything. So, I suppose the only other thing that matters is if you love me, too. Do you, Illya? Do you love me?"

Illya looked up at his partner and wondered how anyone could be so dense. Well, there was one way to make sure Napoleon couldn’t mistake how he felt. He reached up and, wrapping his hand around Napoleon’s neck, pulled him down into a kiss. A kiss that promised everything. Beginning with love.


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