A/N: Just an idea I never had time to write before.
Cedric's grave was over-grown. It hadn't been long since he'd died, less than ten years, but once his parents died no one seemed to have the desire to keep his resting place tended. Viktor knelt on the damp grass, autumn leaves crunching under him, and swiped at the weeds obscuring the inscription.
It was the anniversary of Cedric's death, and since it was a Saturday and he was in the country, Viktor decided to take a day trip to visit his old rival.
Seeing the grave brought back a lot of old memories and feelings, some of which he'd entirely forgotten. He remembered what kind of perfume Hermione wore (lavender), what color his dragon was (orange-y red), and how much passion he'd felt for…for…for him.
He swallowed and untangled a creeping vine from the base of the gravestone, casting it aside. Maybe it wasn't so smart to be thinking about that right now. He had a game the day after tomorrow, and he couldn't afford to go around stirring the bottom of his heart, making forgotten things rise to the top.
Besides, it really was a long time ago. How old would he be now, he wondered? Doing some quick mental calculations, he decided that he must be 22 or 23, depending on his birthday. His lips parted. It had been a while.
He remembered the first time he saw him, and how beautiful he thought he was. He remembered hastily re-directing his feelings onto Hermione, and how afraid he was that his true emotions would be revealed despite his care to conceal them. It didn't matter anymore, he supposed. Harry was probably running around working for his Ministry or something. He didn't read the news, sick of wasting his time on lies, so he didn't know anything about what Harry had been doing lately. But he did remember that Harry wanted to be an Auror.
Maybe that wasn't reliable, though, because when he was fourteen he'd wanted to be a fire-fighter, and he'd ended up a professional Quidditch star instead. It was funny how life worked like that.
He finished cleaning the grave and stood. He looked at it for a few moments longer before turning to go. If he walked fast, he could make it to the hotel before his manager yelled at him for wandering off.
It was a good thing he hadn't told Harry how he felt all those years ago, really. His family's dignity would've been shattered, Harry was too young, and he just wasn't prepared to handle a healthy relationship when he was eighteen.
There was someone walking past the gate to the graveyard just as he was passing through it.
His heart seized in his chest when he recognized him. He was taller now, and filled out from a child into a man, but something about the way he carried himself was the same. He called his name before he realized what he was doing.
Harry stopped and turned. He looked a little different in the face, with fashionable square-rimmed glasses and a stronger jaw than he'd had as a younger man. There was even some stubble on his cheeks. His eyes widened behind his glasses when he saw Viktor.
"Viktor Krum! What the devil are you doing here?" He asked this with a smile, transferring his shopping back to his other hand so he could shake Viktor's.
"I was visiting Cedric."
Harry seemed stunned, and then he murmured, "Oh, that's right…today is the anniversary of his, you know."
Viktor nodded. Things were stiff for a moment before Harry seemed to come out of his stupor and brightly said, "Hey, it's great to see you! Would you like to go get some coffee? I was going to get some on my way home, and I would love to catch up with you. You know, if you haven't got anywhere to be right now."
He thought about his manager's fury, and mentally flipped him off. Harry was more than worth getting screamed at. He nodded, "I would like that very much. It has been many years."
They walked towards a corner coffee shop, talking about inconsequential things like the weather and how long Viktor was in town.
Harry ordered something that came with milk foam on top, and Viktor just ordered ordinary brewed coffee. It still came in a fancy cup. They sat by the window and got comfortable, sipping their drinks while content to people-watch for a little while.
Finally, Viktor broke the silence and asked Harry what he was doing for work.
He shrugged, "This and that. Because I don't really fit into any of the Ministry's slot, they keep me as a sort of combination consultant and Special Forces operative. They want me in the Special Forces full time, but with my kids, I just don't want to risk being out of the country for six months at a time. I had to grow up without my parents, and I don't want them to have the same experiences I did as a kid."
Viktor choked on his spit, "Kids? You have children?" He felt like his heart was being compressed into the size of a thumbtack in a vice of some kind.
"Yeah, twin girls," his eyes lit up, "Mrs. Weasley cried the day they were born, so we let her name them. They're called Trisha and Thisbe, both almost 3 now."
"I see. And their mother…?"
"Oh, we're separated."
Viktor could suddenly breathe again.
"We, uh, we got married right away after the war ended in that crazy time when everyone was just looking for someone to hold onto. We were just too young, though, Ginny and I. She was barely eighteen, and I wasn't even twenty. Needless to say, that didn't last very long. We were married for less than a year before we came to our senses and realized that we weren't in love. I mean, we were both different people than when we were at Hogwarts. I still love her, but like a sister, so we amicably divorced and divided our possessions directly down the middle. Things would've been peachy after that; except she found out she was pregnant a month later, by me."
Viktor slurped his coffee and tried not to think about strangling Ginny Weasley for daring to have sex with Harry to the point of conceiving children with him.
Harry noticed his expression and misinterpreted it, "Oh, I'm sorry! We don't have to talk about this if it's boring you."
Viktor waved a hand, "No, no, this is interesting. Please, continue."
"Alright, but if you get bored, please say something. I want to hear about you too, you know," he swirled his finger in the foam and licked it before continuing, "So anyway, I have the girls for roughly half the year. Ginny is a professional Quidditch player now, on one of those all-girl teams, and I take the kids when she is out of the country. During the off-season, they are with her all the time except weekends or whenever I want to stop by. We manage, and the girls are happy."
"Where are you living now?"
"Muggle London. I live on the northern end and Ginny has the southern part. She moved in with her new husband, the guy who manages her Quidditch team. His name is Sylvester. And you?"
"I do not have a permanent home. I travel to different friends when I am not playing Quidditch. I do jobs they save for me, or I keep them company. I have no need for a home."
Harry nodded, smiling, "That sounds nice. No strings, sort of thing."
"Yes. My mother doesn't like it so much, though. She wants me to settle down, get married."
"And are you?"
Viktor looked away from the window, eyebrows together, "Am I what?"
"Going to settle down? Quidditch won't go on forever, or you could get injured. It might be nice for you to have someone to come home to, who will take care of you. My marriage might not have worked out, but I did enjoy married life. It's…it's nice."
He waved a hand, "I haven't thought about it. I have no one that I love," other than you, "so I will save those thoughts for a time when there is someone special."
Feeling tense and exposed after saying that, Viktor aggressively kept Harry in conversation until both of their drinks were long depleted. They talked about the political situation, which Viktor knew nothing about (apparently the Minister was an embezzler and they weren't sure what to do with him yet…?), new cultural trends like the instant communication devices that you could carry around like Muggle cell phones, and other things that were on their minds. They even talked about what Viktor would do when he grew too old to play Quidditch.
"That sounds reasonable," Harry agreed with Viktor's assessment of what should be done about the broom traffic problems and idly glanced at his watch. His eyebrows went up, "It's eight already!"
"Oh, I am very sorry. Were your children waiting for you at home?"
Harry shook his head, "No, they're coming tomorrow. I was just surprised that so much time had passed," he chewed his lip, waited a moment, and then asked, "Do you want to grab some dinner at a pub or something? I kind of don't want to go our separate ways yet."
Viktor fairly glowed, "I would like dinner very much. But I don't know the area very well; do you have a favorite place?"
"Well…" Harry was thinking about it, and he twisted his lip as he did so. Viktor was transfixed, "If you don't mind eating at my place, we can get curry from this carry-out place. They have really good food."
"If you are inviting me into your home, I will not say no."
Harry laughed and stood, dusting himself off for no particular reason, "Right, then!"
They talked more on the way to the curry shop, but Viktor couldn't remember a word he said. All he knew was that he was going to Harry's house, and that his heart was a whirlwind of emotions he thought he'd banished for forever. It was like being a teenager again- never feeling the same thing for more than a few minutes at a time. His palms were even sweaty again.
He ordered the first thing he saw on the menu, and Harry raised his eyebrows.
"That's really spicy! Are you sure you want that one?"
Viktor smirked, "Are you questioning my strength?"
"No, but I will laugh when you turn purple!"
They walked to Harry's flat, playfully arguing about whether or not Viktor was going to pass out when he ate his curry. There were five flights of stairs to climb before they got to Harry's place, and Viktor asked him how he managed when he had his girls with him.
"Oh, it's right difficult. Every single time I am tempted to use magic, but I am scared that I'll get distracted and then I'll lose the spell and they'll fall and…well, I carry them in my arms."
Viktor grinned at him, finding the fact that he worried about things like that utterly charming. He was fully aware that he needed to get his emotions under control before he did something stupid like confess. Harry was straight for sure, with children and a divorce to prove it.
The apartment wasn't very big. There was a door to the side that led to Harry's bedroom, a kitchenette in one corner, and another small door with a toilet in it from what he could see.
"Where do your children sleep?"
"With me; if I try to put them on the couch bed, they come to me anyway, so I just remove that bother and have them with me all night."
"I see," He sat on the sofa while Harry got glasses of water from the cupboard. He filled them with water and came over to sit next to Viktor. It wasn't a very big sofa and their knees touched. Harry didn't seem to mind, opening his curry and getting back up for cutlery when he realized he'd forgotten it. Settled back down for good, he tucked in. They ate mostly in silence, occasionally making a casual remark to each other.
When they were done eating, Harry asked him if he wanted a beer. He said yes, and they each had one. Then they had another, and another, and Viktor lazily suggested shots, feeling warm and comfortable. Straight or not, Harry was still great company.
He said he couldn't see why they shouldn't, so they did some. And some more, until they were slouched together on the inadequate sofa, very much in each other's personal space. Harry's legs had somehow gotten tangled around Viktor's, and their shoulders kept were melded together. The half-bottle of tequila was now exhausted and they were left with nothing left to drink.
Viktor slowly turned his head to look down at Harry; he was nuzzling his cheek into Viktor's side.
"You smell nice," Harry mumbled, one arm sliding across his torso to embrace him, "and you're so comfortable. You feel solid, you know? Like, reliable. It's nice"
Viktor squeezed the arm around him. He didn't know what to think of this development, but he wasn't sure if he was capable of thinking about very much at all. He followed the line of Harry's arm without realizing it, curving his palm around his shoulder. Harry was looking at him with half-lidded, friendly eyes.
He couldn't help it. Trying to stop himself would be like trying to stop a glacier. He lowered his head until he could touch their foreheads together, and then slouched a little more until he could gently press his mouth against Harry's. Harry didn't resist. He moved his lips sleepily against Viktor, one hand coming around to run his fingers down his back.
Could this really be happening? He wondered this as he deepened the kiss and grabbed the back of Harry's knee, using it to maneuver his leg around his waist so he could slide closer. They kissed until they were so slouched down that they slid clear off the sofa. Harry chuckled throatily, sitting for a moment on the floor to wait for his head to stop spinning.
Having a higher tolerance for alcohol, Viktor recovered first and reached down to help him up; they moved to Harry's bedroom, neither feeling the need to discuss that decision. Harry lay down and pulled Viktor down on top of him, slipping his hands up the back of his shirt and copping a feel of his muscles.
Viktor tore himself away from Harry's lips and neck long enough to pull his shirt off and help Harry get his unbuttoned. The little buttons were fiddly in his fingers, and he very much wanted to simply tear them off instead of undoing them properly. Harry was grinning at him, though, in clear challenge. Just to spite him, Viktor took his time getting them undone even after Harry started to squirm with impatience.
He supported his weight with his elbow arms on either side of Harry's head, and started to move his hips against him. This worked fine until their belt buckles got caught on each other and started to dig into the sensitive skin of their lower stomachs. Harry laughed and undid his trousers in record time, kicking them off and helping Viktor with his belt, which was sticking.
In their under things and socks, they twined together once more. With the booze burning in his brain, Viktor didn't even stop to think about how compliant Harry was being or what this meant for the future. In fact, when they worked their pants off, the foremost concern in his mind was whether or not Harry had any appropriate lubricant.
Harry produced it from under the bed without being asked and handed it to him with a smirk, spreading his legs, already on either side of Viktor's hips, even wider.
While he stretched him with thoroughly coated fingers, he let Harry open the condom wrapper and apply it to him. He shivered at the feeling of Harry's hands on his groin, and Harry must have noticed because he wrapped his hand around the shaft and gave it several good pulls before squeezing the head and withdrawing his hand.
Taking a deep breath, he met Harry's eyes before bracing himself up on his knees and pressing inside of him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. After years of hidden emotions and longing, he finally had Harry all to himself.
He obstinately refused to think about what would happen come tomorrow morning.
Harry let out a little grunt when he reached the half-way point and pulled back before pressing forward again. Harry was very tight, so it had probably been a while. He could only assume that he wasn't his first because of how calm Harry was being about this and the confident way he'd handled his equipment.
The bed was queen sized and had a simple metal frame on it, done up in brass. When he dared to speed up his thrusts, groaning when Harry jerked his hips up to meet them, he reached up with one hand and used that bed frame to give himself some leverage. Harry bit his lip and turned his flushed face to the side, pleasure twisting his features.
He thrust ever harder, changing the angle several times until he found the spot that made Harry grip the bedclothes with white knuckles. Bending down, flexing his back, he tilted his head around until he could smash his lips against Harry's. He could feel him gasping for breath into the kiss, one hand leaving the bedclothes to settle on his hip and pull him up even tighter.
Insides started to coil tighter into to strained knots, and his temples leaked sweat that trickled down his cheeks. Harry made some kind of wordless string of sounds before arching his back and coming. Viktor wasn't far behind him, muffling his groan in Harry's damp hair.
Outside, the night stars smiled down at them.
The next morning, Viktor woke up with the sheets twisted around his neck somehow and Harry curled up under his arm. The sun was streaming in through the sheer curtains covering the windows, and a glance at the alarm clock on the night stand showed that it was approaching noon. His head hurt only mildly, since he'd remembered to drink lots of water in between his beers last night.
He looked down at his sleeping partner, admiring the way his lips were gently parted and the tiny shadows his eyelashes cast on his cheeks. Harry still had beautiful skin, and abundant black hair that would make anyone jealous. He carded his fingers through his, careful not to wake him. It was soft and fragrant.
It had really happened, though. He'd had Harry entirely to himself for hours and hours, and they'd…they'd…
He just couldn't believe it.
There was the sound of the door opening, and small children's shrieking play. He sat bolt upright when he processed what that meant. It was too late for him to do anything, though. The bedroom door burst open, and a pair of little girls came tumbling into bed with him. Harry had been sleeping up until then, but jolted awake when one of the girls dove on top of him.
"What? What's going on?" He blearily demanded, levering himself up, "Thisbe? Trisha? What are you doing here? I didn't expect you until Tuesday!"
The nearest girl merely giggled and burrowed under the covers to cuddle up against Harry. Her twin did the same to Viktor, who became hyper-aware that he was naked and slightly…crusty from last night. And lurking somewhere in the sheets was a used condom or two.
"Um! Um! Um…" He didn't know what to say, but he became extremely embarrassed when Mrs. Weasley came into the bedroom.
"Harry, why aren't you up…yet…" she trailed off when she took in the fact that Harry was shirtless (possibly trouser-less as well) in bed with another man, his daughters crawling on him like he was a piece of playground architecture. Her lips thinned.
"Come on girls, give your father a chance to get dressed," she held out her hands for the twins, and they reluctantly left the bed to take them. Children secure beside her, she nodded stiffly at the ashamed lovers, "we will be waiting for you out there. Please, don't be long."
Evidently she didn't approve of Harry having guests. When she was gone, Harry swore quietly.
"She's early! Bloody early!"
There was no time to be embarrassed. Viktor threw on his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. He helped Harry find his shirt, and located the evidence of last night's activities and deposited them in the bin. Harry saw this and blushed. Viktor saw it and didn't know what to do. They'd had sex last night, but did Harry do it just because he was drunk or lonely?
Viktor got ready to go out the door and back home. He nodded to Mrs. Weasley and waved at the girls before stepping out into the hall. He was half-way down the second staircase before he heard the foot steps. Not daring to hope, to breathe, he turned slowly to see who it was.
Harry was breathless and had obviously run down both flights because he slid into Viktor. Catching his breath, he met and held Viktor's eyes.
"The, uh, the girls want you to come to the zoo with us today. And I want you to come. So…so will you? I kind of want you to come home tonight too, if it's not too much bother."
Viktor grinned, "I would love to."
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