Another MFU blurb

Written for today’s short affair prompt at Section VII.

Summary: In which Napoleon struggles to keep up with Illya in the Arctic–and Illya looks after him in return

Notes:
There are two versions of this piece.  This is the light slash
version (also cross-posted to AO3).  There is a gen version on my
dreamwidth if you’d prefer reading that.
The two blurbs are around 90% similar.

Napoleon didn’t like to admit whenever he was reaching the
limits of his endurance; it was a matter of both pride and the need to cover
his partner’s back.  He and Illya had
been together for nearly two years now; he wanted to prove to his beloved that
he was ready for anything.  And so, as
they continued their trek across the Arctic, Napoleon kept his complaints about
the cold to himself, ignoring the numb feeling in his feet.

Illya, naturally, didn’t seem to even flinch at the cold;
he was leading the way across the snow, glancing up at the Northern Lights
every few moments.  Napoleon had to admit
that the lights were pretty and helped distract him from his numb feet and
increasing tiredness—the greens and teals gave way to blue and purple.

The colors were so beautiful—so entrancing.  Napoleon could feel his head getting lighter
and lighter as the colors swirled overhead.
It suddenly dawned on him how exhausted he really was, and yet, he
didn’t want to bring it up.

He continued to push forward, but Illya was no fool; as he
looked back to check on him, he immediately sensed that Napoleon was not at the
top of his game.

“Napoleon!” Illya chided.
“Why didn’t you tell me you needed to rest?”

“I don’t need rest,” Napoleon insisted.  “I’m fine… I’m…”  He trailed off, trying to shake off his
weariness, but his leg buckled under him, sending him crashing into the
snow.  “Well, maybe a little rest…”

Illya was by his side in an instant, checking him over and
tutting.

“Exhaustion,” he diagnosed.
“And I think you have mild frostbite on your feet.”

“…So that’s why I can’t feel them…” Napoleon responded,
dryly.

Illya shook his head and now attempted to transfer Napoleon
to his back.

“I’ll have to take you back to the U.N.C.L.E. outpost,”
Illya said.

“No, don’t do that,” Napoleon said.  “We might lose the trail of that THRUSH
agent.  Radio back for reinforcements and
go on without me.”

Illya gently placed a hand on Napoleon’s face; it was
almost magical, how Illya’s hand was still warm, even in the bitter cold.  And the lights of the aurora illuminating him
made him look like something from another world.

“Napoleon,” he said, gently.  “I have lost count of the number of times you
have cast aside our objective to ensure that I was safe after an injury.  I love you, Napoleon, and you are more
important to me than anything else in the world.  I dare not risk a chance that the help you
want me to call will find you before you freeze—I can see that you can barely
keep your eyes open as it is.  No,
Napoleon; I will not leave you—no more than you could ever leave me if our
conditions were reversed.”

He gently kissed Napoleon and once again moved to carry his
partner on his back; this time, Napoleon only complained quietly, but
eventually went along with it.  Illya
eventually had him in bed, tucked under blankets with his frostbite—thankfully
mild—being treated.  The cocoon of warmth
was once again lulling him to sleep—but Napoleon struggled to keep his eyes
open long enough to say what he had to say.

“Illya… thank you…”

Illya just smiled, continuing to keep his warm hand on
Napoleon’s face as the Northern Lights from the window managed to continue
casting that otherworldly glow on his face.

“Rest, Dorogoy,”
he instructed.  “Regain your
strength.  We will continue our endeavors
soon enough.”

Napoleon nodded and let himself sink into slumber, all the
while thinking about how lucky he was to have Illya as his partner.