He tossed, uncharacteristically, in the comfortable hotel bed. It was late, the wee small hours his aunt would call this time of night, early morning really. His partner had left him to the charming devices of his evening's conquest, happily in the arms of his own. Though now that he thought about it, it seemed rather the other way around, his partner simply went with the flow of the somewhat vague model that had set her cap for him. It wasn't often it happened, really, that Illya allowed himself to be caught. He wondered if his restlessness was disappointment in his own evening or the success of his partner's. He let out a groan thinking about it, no decision arrived at, and rolled yet again in the very large bed.

It was a perfectly nice hotel, and the bed was bigger than the usual singles they got stuck in on missions. In fact, as far as sharing the bed went, an all too frequent occurrence as their boss felt two entire separate rooms was a little extravagant on a limited budget, this one would rate at the top of the list. He thought that there could be a whole herd of Lipizzaners dancing in the damn thing and he wouldn't notice. He did not want to think that it was the very absence of someone that made the bed seem so contrarily uncomfortable or large.

They had an agreement, anything that happened on a mission was open season, fair companionship included. They each knew that the other is who they would be going home with. It wasn't jealousy then, he thought, and sighed, again an uncharacteristic action. What is wrong with you, he berated himself. You should have been asleep an hour ago. Not that it mattered, they had all day to waste until their boarding call at seven in the evening.

He got up and stalked to the balcony window, throwing back the curtains and watched the lights of the city. There was still half a bottle of something on the dresser, the light from the window was enough to pour a glass of it. There was noise at the door and then the silhouette of his partner outlined in the light from the hall. And his model was with him. Oh grand. He stood, leaning against the window sill, sipping the stinging alcohol and waiting.

"Oh look! Your friend!" the model, whose name Napoleon had never caught, seemed not at all surprised or unhappy to see him. She seemed the type to take life in her stride, no matter what it gave her.

"Hmm, yes," was Illya's only reply.

"Where's your washroom? I simply must get the snow out of my hair, it does such terrible things, makes it curl and then the hairdresser will spend an hour ironing it again and..."

Illya bundled her into the generous bathroom and shut the door on her, she was still speaking. He crossed to Napoleon at the window. He took the glass from Napoleon's hand and took a swallow, finishing off the last of it and then refilling it from the bottle. He took another long slug of it then handed the glass back to his partner.

"That bad, tovarisch?"

"She's a very, ah, enthusiastic girl. This is the most exhausted I have been while clothed in months."

"You mean you and she, no, ah."

Illya shook his head. "She wanted to see the sights, and there is not a lot you can see at night, but there are many, many clubs between those sights."

"I'm sorry, Illya, it must have been terrible."

"I can see you smirking, even in the dark, Napoleon." Illya sounded only slightly more amused than annoyed. "I thought you would still be entertaining Fraulein Eva."

"I did take her to dinner and treated her to a nice slow gondola ride, the boatman even sang for her, but she is far too, ah, mmm."

"She is too innocent for your usual tastes, yes?"

"You should know." Napoleon took a drink.

"You have your standards, I know, Napoleon."

"I am sorry, I didn't realize you would be needing the room."

"Neither did I."

Napoleon imagined he could hear Illya rolling his eyes.

"The bar's open all night, I'll go check out the local talent. You do whatever you need to, I'll see you in a few hours. Just let me dress and I will be out of your hair."

"Not what I'd like you in, friend."

"Illya, she'll hear," Napoleon hissed. Illya had obviously had more than enough to drink already, so he put his glass aside, hoping his partner couldn't find it in the dark.

Illya saw the move, and retrieved the glass, brushing against his partner as he did. He was surprised to find Napoleon shirtless. He always wore pajamas on a mission, always. In the dim light coming in from the cityscape out the window he could see that Napoleon was wearing only the pajama bottoms and that they were slightly too large, making the elastic waist hang low on his hips and making it clear that there was nothing between the flannel and his skin. He licked his lips before taking a drink from the glass. He did not give the drink back to Napoleon.

"It won't be necessary, Napoleon, I don't think she'll sit still long enough to need use of the room." He took another swallow, still eyeing his partner, "She needs to be in the lobby in two hours for a photo session."

"It's later than I thought."

"No, she has an early call, so I offered to let her freshen up and I have every intention of seeing her to the lobby early and then I shall be glad to be saying 'so long'," he finished the glass again. He sat it back where Napoleon had stashed it, again brushing against his partner, with more intent this time.

"Illya, how much have you had?"

"Not enough."

"Not enough of what?" sang the cheery voice of the, still nameless to Napoleon, model.

"Time in the world to spend with lovely creatures such as yourself," Napoleon was charm incarnate, as usual. "I will be off shortly and so must miss your company."

"Oh, you don't need to go anywhere, stay here and have fun with us."

"Ah, we haven't any more champagne and I believe you wanted another, shall we check out the bar downstairs while we await your photographers?" Illya slipped his arm around her waist to lead her toward the door.

She spun, taking his arm and spinning him with her and ended up smack against Napoleon, Illya coming to a halt behind her. Napoleon reached out to steady the pair and ended up with his hands on Illya's hips, the bright blond model pressed between them.

"Oh, this is cozy. I like this." She reached up and put her arm around Napoleon's neck and started placing little kisses all over his cheeks and lips, and at the same time, reached back to pet Illya's hair behind her.

Napoleon was surprised enough that his hands gripped Illya's hips and pulled him closer, and the model between them seemed to like that, humming her approval. Napoleon couldn't get a word in edgewise. His eyes widened at the impish look in Illya's eyes, Illya who did not pull away when Napoleon let him go, but pressed closer so that Napoleon was pushed against the window frame, the model was pressed against him and Illya against her. Illya's hands were wandering, mostly not on the model, who didn't notice where anyone's hands were but her own, pulling Illya closer with one and Napoleon closer with the other.

"Mmm, you didn't get your motorboat ride, did you?" she murmured against Napoleon's mouth and then continued to kiss her way down his throat.

She pressed harder against him and Napoleon wasn't sure if his awakening cock was responding to her press or Illya's hand gripping his ass. He decided not to care. He pressed his own lips to her ear.

"Ah, no, in fact I did not." His own hands were starting to move, mirroring with one on Illya's ass and the other stroking the model's face as he kissed her neck, sliding his fingers down to tease at the soft skin above the neck of her dress.

Illya started on the other side and from the purring sounds she made, she approved of the added attention. Illya kissed the nape of her neck and up to her ear as Napoleon mirrored him, tracing her other ear lightly and then nipping the lobe, and she hummed again and pressed closer, while also wiggling her ass against Illya, inviting his push against her.

Her kisses moved down, across Napoleon's neck and down his bare chest and as she moved down, Illya moved in, taking Napoleon's mouth in a hard biting insistent kiss, and he responded in kind. He traded possession of the kiss with his partner, tongues thrusting and dodging and caressing and taking control and giving it up in turns, all the while the girl was trailing her own exploration slowly down him, nipping and nibbling her way across his skin, delicate fingertips circling one nipple and then the other, following with her mouth, wet and sweet and sucking.

Then she turned and wiggled back up facing Illya, starting to unbutton his shirt and pushing her hands under to push it off. Napoleon reached around and unwound his partner's holster and pulled it out of the way just in time for her to finish getting all the fastenings open. She pushed her ass back against Napoleon's now painfully aroused cock as she dropped Illya's shirt and started to kiss him much the way she had Napoleon, exploring his throat and chest and moving lower as she pushed into Napoleon and they both kissed her neck until she moved too low for them to reach.

Again, they kissed above her head, their hands petting her and each other and all of them humming or sighing or purring in turn as sensations blended together.

When she started to unbutton Illya's pants, he pulled back and looked down, putting his hands over hers. She just smiled up at him in the dim light coming from the bath and licked her lips, then pushed his hands away and slid the zipper down.

She knelt then, a simple tug took Napoleon's pajamas out of the way and she had her hands full of hard secret agent cock. She hummed again, then flicked her tongue first over Illya's and then over Napoleon's. Then back and forth, quick as a hummingbird at a garden, flicking little licks at the tips and down the shafts and neither of them knew where she would land next and they just stood there, watching her entertain herself as she wanted.

How long that went on, her flicking tongue and her fingertips caressing, neither of the agents could have said. She looked up at them, from one to the other and then suggested the bed. They looked at one another and back at her, she took that as a yes, standing and running her hands up their now bare chests as she led the way, shedding her dress as she went. She spun and fell in the center of the bed, holding out her hands to them.

When she had the naked men on either side of her she laughed again, "See, it's cozy, nice isn't it?" And then started stroking each of them again, down chests and across bellies and taking them in hand again, continued to stroke.

Napoleon returned to kissing her neck and making little nibbling trails up to her lips and back again, down her neck and treating her nipples much as she had his cock with flicking teases of touches. Illya was making his own map of her breasts and belly and lower, grinning when her sharp intake of breath showed him how ticklish her lower belly was and the fingers he was trailing up and down the insides of her thighs never stopped with the patterns he weaved.

Napoleon returned to her mouth, kissing her softly, enticing his way inside as his hands continued to caress. She was enthusiastic, and appreciative, her hands stroking his chest and reaching for him as Illya had moved too far from her seeking hands. Illya had slid to the bottom of the bed, crawling back up between her thighs and kissing his way from her ankles to knees to hips, all the while sparing a hand to reach for his partner, his nails lightly raking the back of Napoleon's thigh and causing him to arch against the girl between them. She wrapped her hands around Napoleon again and stroked his aching cock as he kept kissing her and stroking her and one hand slid down her belly to push through the curls and part her wet lips. He slid one fingertip against her clit and could feel Illya's breath against his fingers. He used his long fingers to open her and felt her tremor as Illya took an experimental lick against that wetness under his hand. Her hips started to rise as he continued to place little licks at her, lapping like a cat at cream.

Napoleon sipped the moans she made and kissed her, gently pushing his hips in time with her strokes on his cock and his tongue in her mouth and with his hand massaged and opened her for Illya's fingers to slip inside and his tongue to continue his flicking tease at her clit.

Illya's fingers stroked and explored, finding her sweet spot and pushing, stroking, pulling her closer and closer to coming as she gasped and clung to Napoleon who had moved his wicked mouth down to her breasts again, licking and then whispering a puff of warm breath across the wet peaks of her nipples, making them pucker to attention. As Napoleon made his way down, Illya moved up, trading places and Napoleon took up where Illya left off, first exploring with his tongue, then fingers and sucking her clit between his lips as he carried on what Illya started. Illya, meanwhile, kissed and nipped his way up her belly and chest to her mouth again and she buried her hands in his hair to pull him close and kiss him, surprisingly hard, tongue pushing in to taste his tongue and suck like hard candy.

Her hips came off the bed again, Napoleon was creating so much delight with his fingers and tongue and Illya stroked his hand down across her belly to hold her still, then he ran his fingers through Napoleon's hair and caressed his way back up to play his fingertips across her nipples, then traced patterns on the skin of her ribs and belly and up again to stroke her cheek and never broke the kiss she was demanding with hands fisted in his hair.

Napoleon curled his fingers up in a come here gesture and that is exactly what she did, again, and he hummed against her clit as she shook.

Napoleon worked his way back up, she had arched back, eyes tight shut as Napoleon's hand was joined by one of Illya's, fingering and teasing her through the aftershocks of her second orgasm, her neck arched too, as she squeezed her eyes shut to enjoy the ongoing sensation. Napoleon leaned in to kiss his partner, both of them with the scent and taste of her on their tongues, but underneath the taste of the drink and their own anticipation.

They broke apart and she sat up between them, pushing Napoleon back and straddling his hips. With his head at the foot of the bed, he could feel Illya kneeling between his knees behind the girl and when he looked up he could see his partner's hands caressing her and guiding her onto his hard cock, her softness enfolded his hardness and he felt Illya's fingertips brush his belly and then Illya was stroking her clit with one hand and kissing her neck and his other hand was roaming her breasts and belly, guiding her to rock on Napoleon's cock. Napoleon thrust slow and easy into her, meeting her downward stroke with his push up.

She twisted toward Illya to kiss his mouth and Napoleon could feel her contract around him and increased the speed a touch. Illya laid out flat next to him, hips by Napoleon's head and she leaned down to kiss Napoleon and then slid slightly over to take Illya in her mouth, still pushing her hips against Napoleon.

Their rhythm was a pulsing organic thing, Napoleon pushing into her, she rocking to meet him and at the same time pushing her mouth down over Illya's hard cock in her mouth, hands everywhere on each other and nobody kept track of who stroked who, only that there was skin on skin and contented sounds giving way to more urgent sounds and faster movements and more frantic hands and more demanding moans and then she was swallowing and her climax clamped around Napoleon hard and he filled her and then they were again a mess of limbs and bedclothes. Illya ended up with his head on Napoleon's thigh with his partner's fingers brushing through his hair and her head was on Illya's belly and her feet tangled with Napoleon's.

A ringing sound came from somewhere near the door to the bath and they all startled, with varying degrees of alarm.

"Oh!" She leapt off the bed while both men went looking for pockets with pens. She pulled something that looked like a compact out of her bag and the sound stopped. She held it up for them to see in the light spill from the bath. "Travel alarm. I have to get downstairs!" She stepped back into the bath and ran her comb through her hair then took her dress and shook it out, stepping into it and pulling at the zipper until Napoleon shook himself out of his surprise and stood to move behind her and finish zipping it.

She twirled and gave him a swift kiss. "Thank you!"

She stepped to Illya then, gave him the same kiss, "And thank you, too!"

She stopped at the door and turned back to look at them, "Happy New Year!" and she was gone out the door.

Illya followed, more slowly, checking that the door was locked and then returned to his partner, still standing bemused in the center of the room.

Somewhat later, in the shower, between hard kisses and soapy hands exploring, Napoleon leaned back to look at Illya, "What was the name of that whirlwind? I have never had sex without having at least a first name to put with the body."

Illya continued his slick stroking of his partner's skin, thinking. Finally he looked back at Napoleon, "I don't think she ever let me ask it."

"Remarkable."

"Maybe."

"As much fun as that was, I prefer knowing who I'm going to wake next to."

"You'd better know who you plan to wake up next to, friend." Illya emphasized this by wrapping a large hand around the cock he had been teasing for the last several minutes.

"Oh, rest assured, tovarisch, there is no doubt in my mind who I plan to wake up to, as often as possible." Napoleon leaned in and kissed Illya, a long detailed explanation of how and who he planned to have in his bed every morning that he could manage it.

Much later, sated and curled around his partner in the middle of the tangled bedclothes, Napoleon thought the bed was just the right size after all, and very comfortable, indeed. He smiled into Illya's hair as he fell asleep.