A Turkish bath of all places...

Who would seriously think of going there? But that was where they had 
ended up. Napoleon had suggested it when they had found themselves 
dripping wet and freezing cold after that incident in the park. They 
needed a place to get warm again and Napoleon needed a place to calm 
down after nearly drowning.

He had pretended to be unconscious but he had heard the THRUSH head 
of department ordering his underlings to throw him in the lake. He 
had then activated his distress signal and Illya had arrived just in 
time. 

The only problem was that he couldn´t help Illya because he was tied 
up and in the ensuing fight he was kicked into the water more or less 
accidentally. 

It had been a horrible experience. He had been able to take one last 
breath, not really a deep one, then his shoes and his soaked suit had 
pulled him down. 

He was holding his breath, not knowing how long he could do it; not 
knowing how long it would take Illya to deal with the THRUSH goons. 
It was okay for a while, but after a minute or so he was getting very 
uncomfortable. What if Illya couldn´t subdue them? He couldn´t hold 
his breath forever - in fact he felt like giving up the fight right 
now. `No, hold out a little longer!` he told himself but his lungs 
started to cramp and his chest was heaving, trying to force him to 
exhale. Napoleon´s face was contorted as he tried not to breathe for 
some more seconds. The urge to breathe out became overwhelming, 
though and he knew he was starting to panic.

And then Illya had been there, pulling him to the surface. He had 
been quite shaken but of course he hadn´t let that on to his partner. 

-/-

Even before today´s incident, water had never really been his friend. 
Sure, his agents´ training had included all sorts of water sports, 
swimming, scuba diving, lifesaving and the like. And he had done well 
enough. But he had never been comfortable in the water. And that was 
not just because it made him look dishevelled, as some people might 
think. There had to be a deeper reason. He tried to think of 
something, but all he could come up with was an experience when he 
had been a little boy of seven. His father had decided it was time he 
learned to swim and had picked him up and dropped him in the pool. He 
had flailed about and cried and swallowed a lot of water but his dad 
had been merciless. Could that be it? No, he thought, that was 
ridiculous. He simply didn´t like water, period.

Illya, on the other hand, swam like a fish and always made it look 
like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Whenever an underwater job 
had to be done, Illya volunteered for it (which was a good thing, 
Napoleon thought) and he seemed to like that, too. And when they were 
doing laps in the U.N.C.L.E. pool, which all agents were required to 
do regularly, Illya was always way ahead of him. On those occasions 
his friend also frequently practiced underwater swimming, something 
Napoleon hated. He would confine himself to watching then, and get 
nervous when Illya remained submerged for what seemed like ages. 

After the exercise Illya always had this satisfied look on his face 
and Napoleon found that he envied him. There had to be something 
about it. If only he knew what it was. 

He really wanted to find out and he was going to ask Illya what was 
so fascinating about being in the water, but not now. The job came 
first. He activated his communicator to report to Mr. Waverly. 

After a brief conversation with their superior, there was no time 
left to talk about aquatics. Illya had been ordered to apply for the 
job of a horn player at the theatre, much to his displeasure, and 
Napoleon had to see to it that this position became vacant in the 
first place. So they left the Turkish bath and went on with their 
assignment.

-/-

Two days later they were back in their office. The THRUSH computer in 
the basement of the theatre had been destroyed and the show had 
become a huge success, thanks to the two agents and Janet, the 
actress who had helped them. The job had been done well and even Mr. 
Waverly had had a good time, although he regretted not having been 
able to see Illya play the horn. 

It was mid-afternoon and they were working on their report when 
Napoleon said: "So,  are you doing anything tonight?"

Illya looked up from his papers and answered: "Actually, yes I am. 
Why do you ask?"

"Oh." Napoleon sounded a little disappointed. "Well, I thought we 
could spend the evening together, have dinner, a couple of drinks..."

"You can spend the evening with me, Napoleon." Illya smiled 
mischievously. "But I don´t think you´ll really enjoy yourself."

Now Napoleon was curious. And, as always, ready to take up a 
challenge. "Just tell me where and when we´ll meet."

Illya´s face was unmoved when he said dryly: "Eight o´clock tonight 
at the U.N.C.L.E. pool."

Napoleon was at a loss for words. Finally he stammered: "But... but 
the pool is closed after eight!"

"Not for me. You know Betty from building maintenance?"

Of course he did - he had taken her out a couple of times. 

"I did her a favour once and she is returning it by letting me have 
the key whenever I want it." Illya explained. "I like swimming in the 
evening. I like it when there´s no one else in the pool. Well, I 
wouldn´t mind you, of course. Are you coming?" 

Napoleon wasn´t exactly thrilled with this prospect but then thought 
of the question he had wanted to ask Illya three days ago. "I´ll be 
there," he said, hoping he sounded as determined as he wanted to.

-/-

Illya was waiting for him at the door to the pool. It was eight 
o´clock precisely. He was wearing tight blue swimming trunks. 
Actually they were very tight and did nothing to hide the mound of 
his genitals. When Napoleon noticed that he was looking at it in an 
inappropriate way, he mentally shook himself and smiled at his 
partner. "So, here I am. What are we going to spend our evening with?"

Illya looked at him patronisingly. "How about swimming?" he suggested.

The pool water looked very calm but Napoleon´s stomach was upset. He 
knew that the incident in the park had shaken him more than he was 
happy to admit. He looked at the water, remembering his agony of two 
days ago and found that he was most uncomfortable with the thought of 
immersing himself into that unwelcoming element. 

As always Illya didn´t seem to notice his fear. He dived into the 
water elegantly and vanished beneath the surface. And as always 
Napoleon watched, fascinated, then anxious, when his partner stayed 
underwater for a frighteningly long time. 

After what for Napoleon felt like an hour, his partner emerged, 
panting a little, then, smiling at Napoleon, said: "Are you coming 
in?"

For  a moment Napoleon thought of telling Illya that he had forgotten 
about a date for this evening and that he had to leave immediately 
but he knew his friend wouldn´t believe him. And he wasn´t someone to 
back away from unpleasant tasks, so he decided to be honest.

"Illya, I...  I don´t really like swimming. And I don´t think I want 
to join you."

"It´s because of what happened two days ago, isn´t it?" Illya said.

Of course it was. And he didn´t like it. He was an agent who was 
expected to shrug off such things, just like that. But he couldn´t. 
It had been so terrifying. 

He realized that Illya was still waiting for an answer. 

"I guess so." he mumbled, hoping that Illya wouldn´t hear it. But 
Illya heard. 

He climbed out of the pool and stood next to Napoleon.  

"Napoleon," he said, "you´ve never liked swimming. I´ve been watching 
you for a long time and you´ve never been comfortable in the water. 
You really should do something about it in case things like that 
happen again."

Napoleon was just thrilled.  "So what do you suggest?" he asked 
wearily. 

Illya thought about it, his brilliant blue eyes fixing Napoleon for a 
good minute. Finally he spoke.

"Maybe you should have underwater sex."

Napoleon´s jaw dropped. "What?" he asked weakly.

Illya was ready to explain. "If I asked you what you find most 
relaxing, what would it be?"

Napoleon shot him an indignant look.

Illya insisted, "Wouldn´t it be sex?"

"Well, even if it was..." 

Illya raised an eyebrow. 

"Okay, it is. Yes, I find sex relaxing. But what does that have to do 
with my, uh, disliking water sports?"

"Very simple," Illya said. "You try to overcome your, uh, dislike by 
doing something you like at the same time. Don´t you think that would 
make you feel more comfortable?"

"Oh, but of course." It sounded ironic. "And how would I go about it? 
Take her out to dinner and then instead of asking her back to my 
place for a cup of coffee I´d say, `would you like to go to the 
public pool now for a quick dip?` She´d probably tell me to go see a 
shrink instead!"

"I can see there´s a bit of a problem," Illya admitted.

"And what if I ask her out and she can´t swim?" Napoleon inquired.

Illya just looked at him from beneath wheaten eyelashes. 

"And whom would I ask anyway?"

Illya´s gaze became sort of shyly inviting. Napoleon couldn´t believe 
what he saw.

"Illya, you´re not saying you would...?

"I´m a scientist. I have recognized the problem and I...would like to 
conduct a few experiments to see if it can be solved." 

Napoleon was about to tell his partner that this proposal was more 
than ridiculous and that he would leave now and give the lovely 
Elaine, receptionist extraordinaire, a call when suddenly there were 
lips on his lips and a tongue intruding his mouth. And then arms went 
around his waist. 

He was taken by surprise and thus didn´t notice Illya pushing him 
gently towards the edge of the pool. The next thing he knew he was in 
the water.

Napoleon wanted to kick and push Illya away and get out of the pool 
but his partner was persistent. He held him tight and his tongue kept 
swirling around Napoleon´s in a most intriguing way. Napoleon had 
often admired Illya´s luscious mouth and wondered what it would be 
like to be kissed by his partner. Now that he knew, he couldn´t help 
but surrender. He felt himself relax in his partner´s arms. Illya 
seemed to feel that, too, because the kiss became less demanding and 
more playful. His lips felt so soft on Napoleon´s and his tongue 
touched Napoleon´s ever so slightly. Napoleon was entranced by this 
tender assault and would have slipped beneath the surface 
involuntarily if his partner hadn´t held him up. 

And then Illya pulled back and took a deep breath. When his lips met 
Napoleon´s again, they were slowly sinking beneath the surface. 

It was very erotic, Napoleon had to admit. It felt so good to be 
floating in the clear water while Illya´s tongue kept exploring his 
mouth tenderly. The sensations made his body react in a most 
pleasurable way. 

The only problem was that Illya seemed to be able to carry on kissing 
him forever without needing to breathe whereas Napoleon was running 
out of air in no time at all. 

When Napoleon felt the need for air become more urgent, he pulled 
back and started pushing and kicking again until Illya released him. 
He struggled upwards and when his head broke the surface he panted 
and cursed himself for nearly panicking again.

Illya looked at him thoughtfully. Then he said: "Napoleon, you´re not 
going to drown. I won´t let you. Just relax and let me help you."

Napoleon swallowed as his friend´s arms encircled him again, but 
didn´t fight him. This time Illya pushed his knee between Napoleon´s 
thighs and started to rub his groin against him as they went under 
again. 

Knowing what to expect, Napoleon had managed to inhale deeply. He was 
sure he would be able to hold his breath much longer this time, so 
that he could really enjoy what Illya was doing to him. 

Illya´s hand now slipped inside Napoleon´s swimming trunks and firmly 
stroked his penis, which had become erect just like that. 

Napoleon allowed himself to wallow in the feeling and forgot about 
the passing time. When Illya´s hand let go of him, he still didn´t 
feel the need to breathe.  Well, maybe just a little, but he was 
still doing fine. 

Now Illya let himself sink a little deeper, until his face was level 
with Napoleon´s erection. He took it in his mouth without hesitating 
and started to suck.

Of course Napoleon had received blow jobs before, but certainly never 
one as unusual as this. The water surrounding him, the floating 
feeling, his partner´s tongue stroking his cock...it was overwhelming 
and he knew it wouldn´t take long until he came.

Unfortunately he also knew he was rapidly running out of air again. 
No wonder with his heart rate soaring up. He wondered briefly how 
Illya could do what he was doing at the moment. It turned Napoleon on 
immensely to think that maybe Illya was desperate for air, too, but 
still determined to finish what he started before he allowed himself 
to breathe. 

`I can do that, too,` he told himself, although his urge to breathe 
had become almost unbearable by now. His chest was heaving 
involuntarily and his blood was roaring in his ears. 

But his urge to come was just as strong. He would hold out as long as 
it took...it could only be seconds...he would be unconscious in a 
moment... 

Napoleon felt his cock shoot its load down Illya´s throat and he felt 
Illya swallow and then his self-control was gone and he exhaled with 
a whoosh and a mass of bubbles went upwards.

Illya was with him in an instant and pulled him to the surface before 
he could even think of inhaling. 

They clung to each other, heads thrown back and panting, for a good 
minute. Then Illya said: "So, whenever you´re in a situation like two 
days ago again, you just think of today and you´ll be fine."

Napoleon pondered this and nodded. Then he said: "I have a further 
question. Are you as good at this on dry land, too?"

They looked at each other, left the pool and hurried towards the 
changing rooms to dry up...


- The End -

---

This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.