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

Summary: In which Illya discovers a secret garden in the resort where he and Napoleon are spending their vacation.

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 was curious as to where Illya was leading him; he
had paid for a luxury resort vacation for the both of them with their two weeks
off.  Initially he had been concerned
that Illya wouldn’t want to spend his vacation in a tropical region, but after
tossing the idea around casually, Illya hadn’t seemed to mind at all.  And so, Napoleon had booked the resort
vacation, and was both surprised and pleased that Illya, despite his
heat-shunning, introverted ways, was enjoying himself playing golf and table
tennis with Napoleon during the day, and then keeping him company in the casino
during the evening when Napoleon took everyone else for a ride during the
nightly poker games.

Illya did slip away for brief periods during the poker
games—usually to get extra food, but sometimes, he would go for a walk in the
evenings to explore the resort grounds and see some of the natural beauty of
the tropical plants.  Napoleon had
deduced that Illya was leading him to somewhere he had discovered during his
wanderings.

Napoleon hadn’t expected a garden gate to be their
destination, but he shrugged and followed Illya through the gates, which he
noticed had a key in the lock of the gate.
The path, lined with flowers of all colors—red, orange, yellow, and
white—led to a crystal-clear pond with water flowers floating on the
water.  Large willow trees shaded a
small, grassy area—perfect for sitting down and watching the animals visiting
the pond

“What’s this?” he asked, amused.  “A Secret Garden?”

“I believe that is exactly what it is,” Illya said.  “A beautiful garden in a faraway corner of a
resort that most of its patrons usually don’t waste time getting to?  And yet, they keep the key in the lock, as if
they’re rewarding those who do drag themselves away from the sports and casino
games.”

He sat down on the clearing beneath the willow tree, and
Napoleon sat down beside him.  They
watched a pair of mallards on the water; the two ducks regarded them with
interest for a moment before going back to swimming.  Illya chuckled at the birds, and turned back
to Napoleon.

“This seemed like the kind of place you would like,” he
continued.  “Beautiful, like something
out of a book…  Just the sort of thing
for you to wax poetic about.”

“…Is that an open invitation?” Napoleon asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Ha!  See, I knew you
secretly approved of my poetic nature!”

Illya gently placed his hand on top of Napoleon’s.

“Of course,” he said.
“I just have to pretend not to in order to keep you grounded to Earth.”

“Thanks… I think…” Napoleon smirked.  He looked over the pond and the garden.  “It really is a beautiful Secret Garden—the
greenery of the plants compliments the clear waters and the blue sky—just like
your blue eyes are complimented by your blond hair.”

Illya blushed as Napoleon now
kissed him.

“I could stay here forever with you,” Napoleon added,
gently wrapping his arms around him.
“Well, really, I could stay anywhere in the world with you, but this
place…”  He smiled at the setting.  “It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”

Illya gave his hand a squeeze.

“You put this place to shame with your beauty, as well,”
Illya said.  “I know the casino will be
opening soon for the evening; we can head back after we eat the picnic I
brought.”

But Napoleon now kicked back on the grass, still holding
onto Illya’s hand, and Illya laid back on the grass with him.

“Actually…” Napoleon said.
“I think I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Really?”

“Why would I need to try to prove my luck when I know I’m
the luckiest person in the world to be here with you?” Napoleon asked.

Illya smiled, and the two of them enjoyed their evening
together in the Secret Garden.

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.