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vysila.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-03-28 08:40 pm
vysila.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-03-28 08:40 pm
Entry tags:
With Kings by Lee the T (R, maybe NC-17)
Fandom: MAN FROM UNCLE
Pairing: Napoleon/Illya
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leethet
Author Website: Her works, both gen and slash, can be found on File 40
Why this must be read: Because this is one of the finest Napoleon-pov slash stories in this fandom, plain and simple. Angst, jealousy and humor blend seamlessly, seasoned with a bit of action and a touch of hurt/comfort to bring things to a boil. And boil they do.
Can you tell I found it impossible to rec only one of Lee the T's stories?
"Again," the emir said, "my thanks. Perhaps you would like to rest and refresh yourself before dinner, Mr. Solo?"
Illya surged forward. "An excellent idea, emir." He grabbed Napoleon's arm, beckoned the emir's bodyguards nearer with his free hand, and impelled his startled partner swiftly into the palace. The emir watched them go in surprise.
Once in the cool dimness of the stone corridor, Illya asked, "How bad?"
Normally Napoleon would have let himself sink against his partner's strength. Now, somehow, it seemed important to remain controlled.
"Nothing a night in a seraglio wouldn't cure," he joked, hearing how flat it sounded.
Illya slid his arm around his shoulders, muttered, "I see your libido is uninjured, at least."
Napoleon shook his head, exhausted and sunburnt and dehydrated and filthy and hurting from his head to his heels -- and abruptly, disgusted with himself for playing games.
"Bullet hole in my leg," he said. "Nothing fatal. Just hurts."
He could sense his partner waiting impatiently, knowing that wasn't everything.
"And assorted bruises and scrapes and cuts and things. The usual."
"And?" Illya prompted.
"And I feel like overcooked bacon," Napoleon added. "That's all."
"In deference to your injuries I'll forego the temptation of ham jokes," Illya said.
"Thanks," Napoleon snarled. "I love you too." He went limp, forcing Illya to support most of his weight. Illya staggered a bit, then braced himself, held on tighter, and continued walking, without complaint.
At that, Napoleon found himself smiling. I love you too.
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do.
With Kings
Pairing: Napoleon/Illya
Author on LJ:
leethetAuthor Website: Her works, both gen and slash, can be found on File 40
Why this must be read: Because this is one of the finest Napoleon-pov slash stories in this fandom, plain and simple. Angst, jealousy and humor blend seamlessly, seasoned with a bit of action and a touch of hurt/comfort to bring things to a boil. And boil they do.
Can you tell I found it impossible to rec only one of Lee the T's stories?
"Again," the emir said, "my thanks. Perhaps you would like to rest and refresh yourself before dinner, Mr. Solo?"
Illya surged forward. "An excellent idea, emir." He grabbed Napoleon's arm, beckoned the emir's bodyguards nearer with his free hand, and impelled his startled partner swiftly into the palace. The emir watched them go in surprise.
Once in the cool dimness of the stone corridor, Illya asked, "How bad?"
Normally Napoleon would have let himself sink against his partner's strength. Now, somehow, it seemed important to remain controlled.
"Nothing a night in a seraglio wouldn't cure," he joked, hearing how flat it sounded.
Illya slid his arm around his shoulders, muttered, "I see your libido is uninjured, at least."
Napoleon shook his head, exhausted and sunburnt and dehydrated and filthy and hurting from his head to his heels -- and abruptly, disgusted with himself for playing games.
"Bullet hole in my leg," he said. "Nothing fatal. Just hurts."
He could sense his partner waiting impatiently, knowing that wasn't everything.
"And assorted bruises and scrapes and cuts and things. The usual."
"And?" Illya prompted.
"And I feel like overcooked bacon," Napoleon added. "That's all."
"In deference to your injuries I'll forego the temptation of ham jokes," Illya said.
"Thanks," Napoleon snarled. "I love you too." He went limp, forcing Illya to support most of his weight. Illya staggered a bit, then braced himself, held on tighter, and continued walking, without complaint.
At that, Napoleon found himself smiling. I love you too.
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do.
With Kings