Napoleon and Alexander I a lust affair... or... is it love?

Love War

Napoleon glanceed across the rolling waves  from his bed chambers balcony longing for something more than Josephine cause she was old and a rotten lady. His heart yearned for what their love used to feel like but there was no longer that spark he craved. More than once has he seen her with other men (maybe women?) but somehow he couldnt let her go no matter how craggy and haggy she got. He needed her as a mask to his true self she was a necessary part of how he lived on. But he had to push these worries aside. He was about to fight for his country once more.
Each time he set foot onto the battlefield it became more difficult challenge that Napoleon craved to conquer each time, it was a power trip. War was a renewed feeling of excitement; men crashing swords with other men and rippling abs. The dripping sweat and the exhaustion after winning. He lived for the rush especially that went to his head in adrenaline.  When he met eyes with his opponent, know for the next few hours theyd be at eachothers throats. Bloodshed was the only language he spoke
Suddenly, in the distance, Napoleon saw a strange apparition. Could it possibly be him? His one true nemesis? Alexander I????
But alas, it was only the stinking Austrian General Karl Freiherr Mack.
Napoleon was overcome with sadness. He didn't realize how much he had missed Alexander. Between all of his coalitions and interference with the empire's success, he had lost track of those beautiful orbs of his. Hold on. What was he thinking?? They were enemies, and that would all it would ever be. His hands started slipping in the fight his hands becoming clammier by the second. His eyes...
"Napoleon! They're gaining the upper hand! What r u oing!"

As quickly as he snapped in, he snapped out of thought. It was difficult to focus since war had become somewhat of a fantasy for him something he thought about right before he drifted to sleep it was an addiction.
Napoleon was absolutely pooped. His energy gone. His body sore. His bones squishy. Yesterday was wild. But it did'y feel the same. What was wrong? Not only was he in a loveless marriage, but is he starting to lose his love for war too? This cant be... But he had no time to think, no time to rest. In a few days, he would go up against the formidable Alexander. His worst enemy. He didn't want to waste away over this though. Time to return to his royal, lavish, and extravangt chambers with a silky canopy bed. He wrapped hsi satin robe around his toned muscles and tightly tied it to accentuate his 12-pack. Just like always.
A few days later...
Friedland. 2 o clock in the afternoon. It was now him and alexander on the battlefield. He would make him squeal and squirm and shit himself with his presenc he was so scary.
He almost choked when he saw him. Was it possible that a man could be so beautiful? Somehow he had worked his muscles hard enough that he had achieved a 16 pack - even more than Napoleon's own. The chemistry between their souls always intertwined into an ugly toxic flame.
Napoleon was a little bit jealous, but more in awe of Alexander. Even his sword was big and tactfully built. He turned away bashfully, almost dropping his own.
"Napoleon! What are you doing? You're seriously not even going to fight me? What kind of stupid pathetic short little man are you?" Alexander demanded.
"Oh, I bite my thumb at you sir! I'm barely getting started!"
His grip on the long hard handle of the sword got stronger as he felt that rage or was it lust fill his senses. His grin widened though, he hasn't felt this exhilaration in so long.
Just as quick, Alexander lifted his weapon. They started crossing their swords together , up and down and all around the battlefield. It was very exciting. Their eyes met  a plethora of of times and he saw the same fire in Alexander he had seen every time they met it felt like fire radiating from his body. Together they were like the sun and stars
One moment, Alexander's eyes drifted off to the distance, and napoleon took this time to stab him in the side. But as soon as he had done it, he felt an aching pain in his own body, almost as if he had stabbed himself and was falling over and dying. The thought of hurting Alexander was too much for him.

He fell down and started crying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Alexander I didn't mean to do it!"
"What is wrong with you Napoleon? Get up this instant or i will kill you! Come at me like a man!"
Napoleon admired Alexander's persistence and bravery, standing up even after being stabbed. Blood was gushing out of his side, and he almost wanted to reach out and tend to his wounds.
"Let us fight until the rain pours, until the snow falls, until the spring blooms..."
They went at eachother like there was no tomorrow. What happened? It wasn't an act of rage anymore, but of intense passion. This was fun like none other. But eventually, it had to come to an end. Alexander's men were running thin, and Austria wasn't even part of the battle anymore. It was time to put an end to this. It was him or me the world was never going to be the same
Napoleon held out his hand. "Get up."
"You fool, you plan on rubbing it in my face? You still haven't seen anything from me," he coughed bloodily.
A sharp pain shot into Napoleons heart. His emotions, or his nation... Against his better judgement, he asks "how about peace for our nations? France is in debt we need time and looks like you do too."
"This was never about us was it?"
Napoleon didn't reply, instead he turned away with tears in his eyes and heavy heart.
"Let us finally end this. We meet here tomorrow." and Napoleon left without looking back.
Once Again, Napoleon in his chambers. He readied himself in his robe, loose and showing his massive bulging muscular pectorals, and was grabbing a book from his overflowing shelf when he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in." He sighed.
Unexpedectily, it was Alexander as his door.

"Alexander! I didn't expect to see you here. Who let yuo in?"
"Just the palace guard. Apologies for catching you at such a... vulnerable state..." Alexander closely examined him up and down. "...would you want me to leave?"
"No, stay! It's a pleasure to have you, really." Napoleon looked down and remembered he was in his robe. "Oh dear, sorry about that." He drew the silk over his shiny, toned abdominal muscles. "What is your business here?"
"I came to discuss our rela- i mean... the treaty."
"Oh..." Napoleon tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but it was futile. However he did what he needed for his nation and worked everything out.
At the end of their meeting, Napoleon cleared his throat looking up at the tall, handsome, Greek God before him.
"Is that all?"
"Well... no. thats not all. We need to talk.
Napoleon felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. Alexander's piercing eyes went straight to his heart.
"I hate to admit it, but I appreciate what you've done for me. I know I have to give up all my power to you, but thank you for sparing my life."
His eyes widened in shock, but he still felt a pang of disappointment.
"Don't mention it." Napoleon said.
"Well, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about..." Alexander started.
"Yes?" Napoleon looked down shyly as the red flushed his face.
Their faces inched closer to each other it was quiet in his chambers and the candle light hit their faces perfectly, illuminating their chiseled features.
Napoleon slowly turned his head and closed his eyes, inching ever closer. His hand reached out to touch the velvet uniform that adorned Alexander. However, a knock came at the door, he pulled away. He knew that knock from anywhere.
Napoleon bolted up and whisper-yelled, "Alex! Under the bed"
Alexander had no time to think. Semi-shocked and not thinking, he dives under the bed, taking half the sheets with him.
Straightening his posture, Napoleon yells, "Ahem, who is it?"
Josephine walks through the door quickly without another thought. Where she discovered Napoleon with the silk robe pulled a little looser than normal. She wondered why he looked so flushed and careless. When he was normally as neat and proper as was possible.
"I promise this is the last time, but can i pleas borrow a few hundred euros? I'm going out of town again... visiting a friend."
Napoleon sighed. Of course. What else would she need him for?
"Again? Why can't you just spend the night with me for once?" He said, sounding more annoyed than heartbroken.
"Can you not be more happy hat  I even married you in the first place? You're short, brutish, have a stupid Italian accent... I can't stand being around you! Don't you dare refuse me this, I'm going no matter what!" And she slammed the door without another word
Napoleon was used to it. It was okay. He was going to be okay.
Alexander however did not fair so well from those words feeling jealous? No... never, not for Napoleon. He felt the overwhelming need to defend Napoleon against Josephine and her harsh words.If Napoleon was going to be broken it was going to be by him. Napoleons heart was only his to play with and break.
Alexander emerged from beneath the silk sheets. "That woman is awful. Who is she?"
Napoleon wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He sighed sadly. "Just my wife. Well, ex-wife now I suppose."
"Well Napoleon, you deserve so much better than her. I know I could-"
"Could what?" His eyes widened in expectancy.
Alexander looked at the clock, it was getting late and the exhaustion was getting to his head.. "Nevermind... I'm overstaying my welcome a bit. I'll see you tomorrow. To finish the Treaty of course.. Nothing more."
He turned about to exit the door, but he heard the sound of heavy armory... Was it Napoleon's men? Crap.. they couldn't see them together like this. Quickly, he looked toward the window and leapt for it. Maybe this would be his final night but it was worth it to spend his final eternity thinking of Napoleon. The roof was steep and dangerous, stones popping out at various places. However, the smoothness in which Alexander slid down it was so... indescribable. Napoleon blushed. He couldn't sleep for the rest of the night... thinking about Alexander, but also... what would he do about Josephine?
2, 3, 5, 7, time just kept flowing. It was already 8 am, yet not a wink of sleep.
Alexander didn't fair much better waking up in a cold dripping sweat from the dreams he had about a certain italian man... all he could see when he woke up was the image of him last night; a disheveled robe, glistening skin... and his perfect blushing italian face decorated with his grey-blue orbs.