"No, I love it! Please don't cry!"
Harry Potter had definitely seen Marcus Flint in a variety of positions under varying amounts of pressure, yet he had never seen his giant of a boyfriend look as panicked as the moment when Mrs. Weasley's plump chins trembled with the threat of tears.
It was late afternoon on Christmas day, their first Christmas together, when they stepped into the Weasley's pleasantly cramped home. They had spent all of the morning laying naked in bed, covered only by shreds of wrapping paper and the trail of gifts they had given each other. It had been one of those mornings where kissing and gently touching were too delicious to neglect. On a ridiculous whim, Harry had decided earlier last month that they should only gift each other tiny presents. He had been unable to voice his concern that Marcus would buy him something too extravagant, and found himself blurting out his idea while busily atop Marcus. Unfair though it was, Harry couldn't help but be pleased with himself when he got his way. Marcus could never say no to Harry when Harry bit his earlobe...or when he was fucking him.
They had begun with a bang. Remembering how Marcus had woken him up with his salacious lips wrapped around Harry's dick, Harry had to duck his burning face. He didn't particularly want Ginny or Ron to guess as to why Harry had to shift his weight a little further left so that the couch could cover his waist. As amazing as the sex had been, however, it wasn't simply that which made Harry so eager to be alone with Marcus again. He allowed his hand to rest gently around the comfortable weight in his pocket. The only feeling comparable to how his body felt now, tingling with happiness, was the sudden but exhilarating moment while flying when you simply let go and allowed your body to drop through the air. As you careened closer and closer to the ground, you forgot all your worries, feeling the secure weight of the broom under you. You had nothing to fear, nothing to lose. You were anchored to the thing that would not let you fall.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked with a smile. While everyone else laughed as Marcus shoved his head through yet another Weasley sweater to comfort Mrs. Weasley, Harry had remained lost in thought as he glanced down at his hand
Not ready to share his happiness quite yet, Harry smiled brilliantly and nodded, "Yeah, great. Just thinking. Umm, Mione, could you help Marcus out? He's gone all red in the face."
"Oh, dear!" Called to the rescue, Hermione quickly made her way over to Marcus and expanded his collar. She shook her head with a grin, "Marcus, perhaps you should go outside and catch your breath."
Rubbing the back of his neck, Marcus nodded, "Perhaps that would be best…but only to try out the sweater in the cold. Really, Mrs. Weasley, it's amazing!"
Mrs. Weasley made a noise between a hiccup and sigh, but nodded all the same with a relieved smile and watery eyes. Behind her, poor Mr. Weasley nodded at Marcus with gratitude. More than anyone, he was carrying the brunt of Mrs. Weasleys' drastic mood shifts. He dutifully calmed her anger and soothed her nerves, but every once in while, shrouded in shadow and only under the influence of a glass of fire whiskey, he could be heard lamenting to Harry, Hermione, Marcus, or one of his children that menopause really was quite a hard thing to go through. Particularly for him.
Harry and Marcus had just made it out the door when Marcus broke into an embarrassed laugh, "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to make her cry. The sweater really did look too small."
"The change is probably messing with her concentration," Harry grinned.
"Oooh, you better not let mum hear you say that," Ron said as he came out to the lawn to join them. He looked genuinely concerned.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "You're a grown man and you're still scared of your mother. I am married to a Ninny."
"What?! It's not like I'm lying…"
"Mione, I'll have you know-" Cutting Ron off, Hermione smacked a loud, sloppy kiss on his lips.
Harry couldn't help himself, "Oh, Ronniekins."
Ron blushed nearly as red as his hair, "Shaddup, 'Arry!"
"But Ronniekins-" Harry didn't have time to finish his thought before Ron tackled him onto the snow.
Watching their rather awkward wrestling from a distance, Marcus and Hermione started betting, "Ten on Harry."
"Hermione, don't you want to bet on your husband?"
Hermione shrugged, unapologetic, "George spiked the punch. I'm drunk. Also, I wear the pants in the relationship, and I'm not afraid to take them off to get my way."
"I'm going to lose, aren't I?" Marcus asked, already taking the money out.
Hermione grinned, "Yep."
Harry dumped a pile of snow on top of Ron, and let himself drop to the snow with a whoop of victory. Spluttering out of the snow, Ron mock glared at his best friend, "I just want you to know that I let you win for the sake of your boyfriend."
Hermione shook her head and went over to help her husband up, "It's ok, Ron. Oh, Harry, you dropped your keys."
"Yes, Harry. You dropped our keys."
Three pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at Marcus. Just as fast, Hermione and Ron turned their heads to stare at Harry. All three were holding their breaths. Harry's eyes began to water and he was forced to break the Mexican stand-off when the stinging became too much. There was a very loud squeal, before his two best friends tackled him to the ground again.
"Tell us or we won't get up," Hermione demanded.
The first gifts had been jokes. Harry had given Marcus a sock, just one sock, which began singing very off key as soon as Marcus unwrapped it. In return, Harry was given a dancing tea cup. The next presents were slightly more serious - a silver elf ring for Marcus and a small bauble that allowed Harry access on his own, without Marcus' company, to any of Marcus' properties. Next, Harry gifted Marcus with a voucher to visit one of Romania's premiere dragon facilities (also giving Marcus a convenient excuse to speak with a Romanian player he wanted to recruit. Marcus had, in return, given Harry a new welcome home mat. Harry had put it aside next to the dancing tea cup, chiding himself for his slight disappointment. He calmed himself by giving Marcus his last present. Going into his room, he brought out a first edition of Marcus' favorite children's book. Marcus had mentioned it only once, in passing, but Harry had seen the softness in his eyes. It was the same softness that returned to them when Marcus gingerly picked the book up and gently sifted through the pages.
Marcus had put the book aside softly, and kissed Harry deeply. Stroking Harry's face, he stuffed his hand into his pocket and transferred its contents into Harry's, "This is my last gift for you."
Harry glanced down at his hand and valiantly tried to hide his frown. He looked at Marcus with slight confusion and tilted his head, "Your keys?"
"No," Marcus shook his head. "I don't have keys for my homes. Tell me, Harry, what is different about these keys."
Harry studied them for a moment, "They're uncut."
"That's right. Now, what do all of my gifts have in common?"
Harry laughed and shook his head, "Well, you always complain about my mismatched china and my worn mat, so there's that. We've also talked about me dropping by your place. But, umm, the keys...well, let's see…"
"Mm-hmm," Marcus muttered, trying to calm his nerves by touching his new book.
"Homes! They've all to do with homes!"
Marcus grinned, "That's right. Only those can't be for any home."
"Well, right, because they haven't been cut. They're not for a home. At least." Marcus eyes never wavered from Harry's. In turn, Harry's eyes slowly widened, "not yet."
"But they could be."
Harry nodded slowly. Marcus broke into a laugh and scooped Harry into his arms when he noticed that Harry looked down as he always did when he wanted something ever so badly. He kissed Harry's eyes, forehead, and slowly trailed small kisses down his nose until their lips touched. "They could be for us."
"Marcus," Harry whispered, as if afraid to ask, "are they for us?"
"Only if you want them to be."
Harry grinned and nodded, afraid that no words would come out, "Where?"
"Wherever you want, Harry. I will give you the world if you so decide," Marcus said, an almost painful look of devotion on face.
Harry smiled into their kiss and buried his face into Marcus' neck. "Just you. I only need you," he promised.
They made it to their bedroom with Harry's legs wrapped around Marcus' waist. Being with Marcus, Harry decided, was definitely like the moment when he allowed himself to drop while flying. He allowed himself to drop his naked weight atop Marcus, cherishing the slow burn. Feeling Marcus' reassuring solidness beneath him, Harry couldn't help but grin. Marcus was definitely like the wood of his broom. Always there, ever present, balancing and not letting him fall.
They made love like they had a lifetime. Marcus switched their positions and plunged himself with slow intent, over and over, into Harry. Beneath him, his boyfriend flushed with pleasure and wrapped his arms around his neck. Marcus hissed out in surprise when Harry's nails snaked down his long back, until they dug into the slopes of his ass. It went on and on, with Harry urging him on. Marcus had wrapped his hand around Harry, pushing him over the edge before allowing himself to move faster with more force. Harry used Marcus' waist to anchor himself, afraid that this much pleasure would break him apart. It was amazing. It was everything. And Harry, moving seductively beneath Marcus, made sure he put on a hell of a good show.
Long absence, I know. Let me know what you think, and please check out my brand new story (HG/SS) and review. I look forward to hearing from you all.