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He didn't move but Napoleon could feel the ghost of a shiver.
Touching, grabbing or gripping a partner in order to rescue him, giving him a comforting – or a mocking - pat on the back, it was part of the business.
This... this was different.
With Napoleon's arm wrapped around his shoulders, Illya's brain wasn't processing as it usually did. A tingling sensation was creeping through the nape of his neck as tentative fingers were brushing it.
This... this was different.
“Napoleon?”
Fiery blue eyes met flaming hazel ones.
They could laugh and get up.
Illya pressed his lips against Napoleon's.