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fandomweekly2017-01-09 10:17 am
alobear) wrote in fandomweekly2017-01-09 10:17 am
Entry tags:
[#27] Some Consolation (Man From Uncle)
Theme Prompt: Flophouse
Title: Some Consolation
Fandom: Man From Uncle (2015)
Rating/Warnings: Slash, but nothing explicit
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 411
Summary: Napoleon has standards
Napoleon circled the confines of the room, his lips curled in distaste.
Illya, sitting on a mattress on the floor, regarded him impassively.
“What is the matter?” the big Russian asked, his bulk somehow lessened by his stillness, even in the small space.
Napoleon let out an exasperated breath, and gestured at their surroundings.
“It’s so grim in here!” he announced.
Illya shrugged. “This is where we need to be, so this is where we are. Besides, I’ve stayed in worse.”
Napoleon looked around at the peeling wallpaper, the limescale encrusted sink, the cracked window panes. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if trying to keep as much of himself out of contact with the room as possible.
“I find that difficult to believe,” he said, with a slight shudder.
Illya raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really?” he drawled. “Is there mould on the walls?”
“No,” Napoleon admitted, “though I wouldn’t like to guess where some of those stains on the carpet came from.”
Illya ignored his continued protests. “Is there a leak in the roof?”
Napoleon glanced upwards, as if was expecting the whole ceiling to cave in suddenly. When it didn’t, he sighed. “No, but I’m not sure I trust the structural integrity of this building.”
Illya’s lips twitched in an almost smile. “Are there rats?”
Napoleon started as if he’d been bitten. Then he stared down at Illya.
“You’ve stayed in places where there were rats? Yeuch!”
“KGB would send me to some nasty places. Criminals don’t usually go to fancy hotels when they hide. So, you see, it could be worse.”
Napoleon still looked less than convinced. “I suppose so.” He dropped his voice to mutter petulantly. “But, I really do prefer my accommodations to be of the sort that provide pillow mints.”
Illya looked at him quizzically, not having heard properly. “Peppermint? Why would a hotel give you peppermint?”
“Pillow mint,” Napoleon repeated more loudly. “You know, when they put a mint on your pillow as part of the decor.”
“Ah, I see.” Illya grinned suddenly. “But this room has something much better than pillow mint.” He stretched out on the mattress, then opened his arms towards Napoleon. “It has me!”
Napoleon sighed dramatically, then sauntered casually over to join Illya on the bed, presenting an air of complete indifference. Once he was ensconced in Illya’s embrace, he sighed again, this time much more contentedly.
“I suppose I shall just have to make do.”
Title: Some Consolation
Fandom: Man From Uncle (2015)
Rating/Warnings: Slash, but nothing explicit
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 411
Summary: Napoleon has standards
Napoleon circled the confines of the room, his lips curled in distaste.
Illya, sitting on a mattress on the floor, regarded him impassively.
“What is the matter?” the big Russian asked, his bulk somehow lessened by his stillness, even in the small space.
Napoleon let out an exasperated breath, and gestured at their surroundings.
“It’s so grim in here!” he announced.
Illya shrugged. “This is where we need to be, so this is where we are. Besides, I’ve stayed in worse.”
Napoleon looked around at the peeling wallpaper, the limescale encrusted sink, the cracked window panes. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if trying to keep as much of himself out of contact with the room as possible.
“I find that difficult to believe,” he said, with a slight shudder.
Illya raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really?” he drawled. “Is there mould on the walls?”
“No,” Napoleon admitted, “though I wouldn’t like to guess where some of those stains on the carpet came from.”
Illya ignored his continued protests. “Is there a leak in the roof?”
Napoleon glanced upwards, as if was expecting the whole ceiling to cave in suddenly. When it didn’t, he sighed. “No, but I’m not sure I trust the structural integrity of this building.”
Illya’s lips twitched in an almost smile. “Are there rats?”
Napoleon started as if he’d been bitten. Then he stared down at Illya.
“You’ve stayed in places where there were rats? Yeuch!”
“KGB would send me to some nasty places. Criminals don’t usually go to fancy hotels when they hide. So, you see, it could be worse.”
Napoleon still looked less than convinced. “I suppose so.” He dropped his voice to mutter petulantly. “But, I really do prefer my accommodations to be of the sort that provide pillow mints.”
Illya looked at him quizzically, not having heard properly. “Peppermint? Why would a hotel give you peppermint?”
“Pillow mint,” Napoleon repeated more loudly. “You know, when they put a mint on your pillow as part of the decor.”
“Ah, I see.” Illya grinned suddenly. “But this room has something much better than pillow mint.” He stretched out on the mattress, then opened his arms towards Napoleon. “It has me!”
Napoleon sighed dramatically, then sauntered casually over to join Illya on the bed, presenting an air of complete indifference. Once he was ensconced in Illya’s embrace, he sighed again, this time much more contentedly.
“I suppose I shall just have to make do.”
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Also, the criminal lifestyle, being constantly on the move, that sense of humble, nomadic temperament - nice!
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