Chapter Text
Chapter 1 – You Don’t Know Me.
You don’t know me by Elvis Presley
(Words & music by Walker - Arnold)
You give your hand to me and then you say hello
And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so
And anyone could tell, you think you know me well
But you don't know me.
No you don't know the one who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight
To you I'm just a friend, and that's all I've ever been
No, you don't know me.
What do you see when you look at me? A partner? A friend? Perhaps even a brother? You think you know me well, but you don’t. I fear our friendship would end, and very likely, our partnership as well, if you really knew me.
I knew from an early age that I was not like other boys. While they pursued the girls they knew or told each other outrageous stories of what they did with those same girls, I secretly wished they would look at me the way they looked at their girlfriends. I learned quickly, though, such feelings were unnatural. A boy who seemed just a little too effeminate or who appeared a little too interested in the other boys would be quickly ostracized. Or beaten up when the adults weren’t watching. I began to build a wall of ice around myself to protect my terrible secret.
The Soviet government took notice of me at an early age due to my higher-than-average IQ and I received a varied and extensive education and so it was that I ended up at Cambridge. When I arrived in England I found that, although homosexuality was illegal, it was often ignored as long as you were discrete. There was no death penalty as in my own country. I discovered there were others such as myself. They met in underground clubs where, for a short while, they could relax and be themselves. Even there I had to be extremely careful so word would not get back to the Soviet government. For a time, I allowed myself to believe that I could safely interact with these other men. Interact, hah! What a foolish word to use to describe we did in those dimly lit clubs. I must have gotten sloppy at some point because one day a ‘representative’ of my government came to speak to me. He said they had heard disturbing rumours regarding what I did during my recreational hours. I denied everything, of course. I told him that I spent all of my time on academics and that any rumours were due to anti-Soviet feelings and jealousy regarding my high test scores in all of my classes. I convinced him, but he said they would be watching me. Naturally, I should have remembered that. I never went back to any of those clubs, never spoke to any of the young men I met there. I spent every moment of my time studying and soon made my country proud of their brilliant young progeny.
As time passed, my protective wall of ice became impenetrable. So much so, I began to believe the lie myself. I was not as those other men were, I did not want to feel their strong arms around me, did not want to bury myself in their willing bodies. And if I was not seen in the company of young ladies either, well, I was much too busy for such nonsense. I became so good at hiding any emotion that when my training turned to the killing of enemies of the state, I did it with such cold-blooded efficiency that I became feared, even among my fellow KGB. So good that the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement took notice and requested I become the Soviet Union’s first agent with their organization. And so fate put U.N.C.L.E.’s top agent and the U.S.S.R.’s top agent on a collision course.
I remember the first time we met. You gave your hand to me, and then you said hello. I could hardly speak, my heart was beating so. You were the man who visited me in fevered dreams. You were the man I never hoped could be real because to feel what I felt for my dream man was unnatural and dangerous. There you stood, so handsome and debonair; all of my darkest fantasies come to life. I felt all of my carefully erected barriers slipping away and I quickly rebuild them against you. I could not let you weaken my resolve. No one must know; I would be sent back to the Soviet Union to prison or death. I became known as the ice prince among my fellow agents. So be it, better that than other names they could call me. I have heard them all: queer, faggot, ponce, homo. And those were the nice names for what I am.
I tried to seal my heart away from you, but you would have none of it. You kept chipping away at my wall of ice. Why? Why could you not leave me in peace? Did you think you were doing the poor lonely Russian a favour by befriending him? Did you have any idea what you were doing? Did you know I would fall in love with you? Now I dream of you at night. I long to kiss you and hold you, tight against my body. To you, I’m just a friend. That’s all I’ve ever been, all I can be. No, you don’t know me at all.