Title: Cheers (To That)
Pairing: Viktor/Neville, multiple pairings
A/N: Based off a porny idea I had (and the idea that these two would be an adorable couple).
Summary: At a wedding, there's a lot of alcohol and a reawakening or two.
Neville really isn't sure how he ended up here.
Harry and Ginny had exchanged vows at the Burrow, underneath a glorious canopy and a clear blue sky, the wedding party transported to a reception hall that Lee Jordan's Muggle uncle owned and was willing to rent out to the biggest (or most notable) wedding in recent wizarding history.
The night's been amazing so far - enough spectacle and intimacy for everyone to truly revel and celebrate the new world they've been in for the past few years. There's a lot of people Neville doesn't know here, but he doesn't mind, just takes another Firewhiskey and enjoys the scene of Veela performing a dance.
The only real surprise of the evening has been Viktor Krum sitting beside him throughout the whole event - from dinner to the festivities afterwards, he's been a warm, almost-silent presence at Neville's elbow, watching with a curious, steady gaze as Neville had socialised and drunk.
There's some Muggle music playing and Neville's feeling a little bit left out as all the couples take the floor - but Viktor offers his hand, smirking and saying, "care to dance?"
He suspects it's a combination of the alcohol and Viktor's rather handsome visage that compels him to agree, but Neville has a good time on the dancefloor - dancing to music he doesn't even like that much, all the time with Viktor's hand a large and grounding presence on the small of his back.
Half an hour later, they'd been talking when Viktor had leant in and.. well... kissed him. Put those broad, square palms on either side of Neville's face and had snogged the face off him, to put it somewhat delicately.
Ten minutes later, they were in one of the reception hall's many, many bathrooms - a quick Locking Charm from Viktor sealing the door shut - and the Bulgarian was yanking Neville's trousers down with a single-minded determinism he had only witnessed during his Quidditch games.
"Need you... wery much. Need you, Newille." The lilting accent sends shivers rocketing up and down the remains of Neville's spine as Viktor's mouth ghosts over the ridge of Neville's cock.
"Wh... why me?" Neville manages to choke out as Viktor's tongue laps at his dick and Viktor pauses, for an agonisingly long moment before murmuring something in Bulgarian and suckling on his cock.
Neville's head nearly cracks on the back of an expensive-looking mirror as he moans, fingers unconsciously threading through short, close-cropped hair. Neville's senses are heightened - he can smell the jasmine soap a few inches away, the cool of the marble counter he's pressed against, how amazing Viktor's tongue feels when he does that swirling thing...
There's a blur of movement as Viktor stands, turning Neville over onto the counter and unbuttoning his own dress pants. Neville gasps, eyes dilating at the sight of himself in the mirror, Viktor behind him and murmuring chants.
The initial thrust of Viktor's cock into Neville's backside is a shock which drives the air from Neville's lungs and Neville's suddenly aware of every nerve ending - Viktor's hands stroking his sides, the feel of Viktor's balls slapping against his ass as he starts to build momentum and suddenly Viktor's calloused hand wrapping around Neville's cock, jerking him in time with the movements.
Viktor's whispering in Bulgarian, some things that Neville can guess are curse words and others which just sound dirty. He thinks that maybe he should learn a few words for next time - but then he stops himself.
This is a one-time thing, he's aware of that. Can't think of it being anything more, unless he wants his illusions shattered.
But all of a sudden, the breakneck, rollercoaster of a sexual encounter starts to reach its climax - Viktor's hand on his cock and his thrusts speeding up, as do his Slavic curses. Neville looks in the mirror and into his eyes - only to find Viktor gazing back, eyes dark and pupils blown with lust.
Then he's coming and groaning and Neville's a second later, spilling into Viktor's warm hand while tightening around stiff cock. Viktor sags onto Neville's back, forehead pressing against sweat-slick shoulderblades.
Neville's too stunned and dazed and... well, well-fucked as Ron or Seamus might say, to notice Viktor standing, dressing himself and then starting to redress Neville too.
"Why me? You... there were dozens of girls who you could have..." Neville's gasps are still barely audible but Viktor finishes retying Neville's tie and kisses him, lingering and sweet and passionate.
"You..." Viktor starts, fumbling over words before he manages it, "I haff always... but never had chance until the Great Var." He bows his head, pressing closer to Neville, so that they can revel in each other's warmth and the permeating afterglow.
"Then I heard you vere nearly killed and I..." Viktor stops, a scowl on his handsome face. "I vos scared that I might never get chance to..." His eyes are near-despondent - the terror still evident, the fear of loss that Neville's experienced more than he'd like.
Neville nods, something warm and brilliant and bright flooding his chest as he leans up and kisses Viktor. It's uncertain and cautious, but definitely built on something strong. If it's true, what Viktor's saying...
They exit the bathroom and make their way back to the dancefloor, where they can see a few curious glances amidst the dancers swaying to a song by a girl with the name of a bird.
"Vas vondering... if you vanted to come back to my home." Viktor's nervous smile becomes warmer as Neville bites his lip beneath a smile of his own. "I haff wery good view of sun rising over Black Sea vhen in morning. And I vould like you to see it."
Neville's grin becomes wide, hopeful and Viktor's arm around him remains strong and solid and protective as they head somewhere a little quieter to evaporate.
There'll be time to talk, to discuss, to make love in a bed and to wake up in the morning next to each other; to enjoy the sun rise and to enjoy whatever life they're making for themselves. This isn't like anything before, for either of them, and if Viktor's predatory, possessive grin is anything to go by, then it's more than worth trying for.
And if Neville sees Luna's serene smile, or Hermione's proud grin, or the knowing look that Fleur, Harry and Molly share... there'll be time to enjoy that little satisfaction too.