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I.
It is efficient, and it is calming knowing that at the end of the day, no matter what mission they're on, Napoleon is going to crawl into bed with Illya and curl into his arms to rest.
It started during one of their missions in winter, when Napoleon found himself almost hypothermic after he accidentally fell into a frozen lake. Even after Illya and Gaby got him back to the safehouse, and installed him in front of the fireplace, his body still refused to warm up.
"Still cold, cowboy?" Illya draped a few blankets over him. "Gaby's still warming up water for your bath. It's going to take a while so you might need these."
"T-thank you, Peril."
Napoleon's teeth still continued to chatter away, and his body kept shivering. He rubbed his hands vigorously, trying to heat them up.
"Maybe I could help," said Illya, reaching to wrap his hands around Napoleon, only to see him scoot away.
"You have c-c-cold ha-ands. I remember - back in Rome -"
Illya snorted. "Then I'll keep my hands away from you. I know the rest of me is warm - all Russians have to be or they'll never survive harsh winter." And with that he pulled off his turtleneck and scooted under the blankets, pressing his chest to Napoleon's back and taking care to not let his chilly hands touch his partner.
"Ohh." Napoleon let out a sigh of satisfaction as he felt the heat from Illya's body start to warm up his own.
"I told you. We Russians have superior resistance to cold. Unlike you Americans." he said with a smirk.
And Napoleon couldn't find a good reason to disagree, especially since he didn't mind the comfortable position he was in at the moment.
II.
Gaby was already in the car, her fingers tapping impatiently at the steering wheel as she waited for her partners to arrive. Just as she was about to pick up her tracker to check in on them, the backseat door flew open and a very heavy object was thrown into the passenger seats with a loud thump.
She looked around and saw that the large object, was in fact Illya, either knocked unconscious or passed out. Before she had time to think about what was going on, Napoleon climbed in beside her and yelled at her to drive. Fast.
The ensuing car chase was tense, but not just because of the risk of getting caught. She saw Napoleon fidgeting and looking behind at Illya, wanting to make sure that he's alright. Napoleon winces every time Gaby makes the car swerve, and the thump in the backseat informs him that Illya probably hit his head a couple of times against the seat or the car door. He's still unconscious but the rise and fall of his chest is reassuring, and Napoleon tries to do his best to focus on reading the maps and getting them all out safe.
Finally, Gaby turns into an alley and stops the car.
"Get in the backseat, Solo." Gaby says, and there's enough determination in her voice that Napoleon does not question it.
He gets out and in as quickly as possible, and he gingerly moves Illya's body such that his head was cradled in his lap.
"Hand me the map." and Gaby does.
In the dim light of the streets, Solo strains his eyes to read the map and direct Gaby where to drive.
He knew that he was distracted earlier by his concern for his partner's safety, but now in the backseat, he allows himself to lay a hand on Illya's chest, to feel his shallow but even breathing.
There will be time for this later. He'll be able to hold Illya and catalogue his bruises and check on his condition, and Illya would tease him for going soft on him. But that can only happen if he's able to hold his concentration right now.
III.
Gaby stirs, and wakes up to find Illya's arm draped over her.
She sits up and yawned, and when she turned around to look at Illya she startled, realizing that Napoleon was spooning Illya on their bed.
Illya’s arm pats around the spot that Gaby was, trying to seek out her warmth. Finding no one there, Illya murmurs softly and slowly opens his eyes. His confused and sleepy expression is adorable, and his sleep tousled hair and his long eyelashes aren't helping either.
His eyes quickly focus and meet Gaby's, and she leans forward to ruffle his hair.
"Go back to sleep. I'll make breakfast."
Illya slowly blinks again, then closes his eyes in acceptance.
Gaby heads to the kitchen to start on their breakfast, and by the time she's done and coming back to wake them up again, she finds that Napoleon and Illya have changed positions: Illya is curled around Napoleon, their legs intertwined, and Napoleon's face is tucked into Illya's chest.
When she calls for them, Napoleon yawns at her.
"Five more minutes?"
"Alright. But just five. And you're doing the dishes."
They look disgustingly adorable, curled up like kittens in a basket, and Gaby considers grabbing Illya's camera to capture this moment so that she can keep it forever.