AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Happy New Year and welcome to my third foray into the land of characters that have just come completely to life for me.

Be advised: This is not like any other Harry Potter fanfic you may have read. Names and certain relationships are taken from the books, but all similarities end there. Everyone is Human. No one is magical. This is another spin off from the E&O Universe, about the lives of our beloved friends across the pond. Some of these characters originally appeared in Equal and Opposite chapter 7. The rest are either original characters devised since then, or other characters taken from Harry Potter whose parts have yet to be played.

This book will run concurrently with Enticements & Obstructions by OhJasperMyJasper and picks up after chapter 13. Events depicted herein are tied into the lives of the central characters from my other book Culture Shock, that take place after chapter 24. If you have not read those, some of what you read here might leave you a bit lost.

Be also advised and warned: I write graphic, rated MA, homosexual lemons. If you don't want to see that, turn away now.

Giant thanks to my husband Scott for putting up with my endless hours in front of this keyboard when he cannot at all grasp why I love to do it.

More Giant thanks to my twin sister and writing partner Liz, most especially for creating the E&O Universe, and letting me come to play in it and help steer the ship.

And Giant thanks to Miss Kate for making sure my Brits sound like Brits.

Anyone who has not read the incredible Equal & Opposite, or is not now reading the brilliance that is Errors & Omissions, or Enticements & Obstructions, all by OhJasperMyJasper, should go do so right now. Links to all are in my profile.

WARNING:

This story is intended for an adult audience! There is crude speech, hate speech and adult sexual subject matter of a homosexual nature. If you are under 18 stop reading now!

AU/AH/OC/Non Magical

All characters from Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling . I just take them out and play with them.

There are actual Arsenal football club players as characters in this book. Real People. Much as I would like to, I do not know them. I do not know anything about them. Their personalities and sexual orientations, as depicted herein, are entirely fictional.

All characters from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just play with them too.


Chapter 1: Mission Impossible

(One Week After Emmett and Nasir's Emergency Exodus from the United Arab Emirates)

They gathered at Molly Mogs as often they did in the evenings. It was their very favorite place. 'Fancy meeting up for a pint?' was the usual question and if answered in the afermative, the location was a given. Dré and Vince both wore black tee shirts. It was a warm summer night, but Greg could not remember the last time he had seen his pale friend in short sleeves. The very thin man wore black jeans while his beefy partner had on denim shorts. Greg and his better half both wore tank tops and shorts. Greg would be the first to admit that Viktor looked better in that kind of outfit, but the Bulgarian liked to see his partner dressed this way, and so he was. Rick was still in his work attire, but his necktie was in his pocket and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. They all stood at their usual table midway between the doors and the bar.

"It's bloody awful, what happened to Emmett and Nasir in the Emirates. They barely made it out with their lives! A man died because someone thought he was one of them. And I just can't stop thinking about that poor Indian lad who lost his partner and can't even let anyone see him mourn," Greg shook his head.

"Poor sod," Dré agreed. "That is really shitty."

Vince was his usual quiet self but moved his body closer to his lover, put his arm around him and rubbed the slight man's ribs in silent communion.

"We should get him," Viktor gave a determined nod.

"Get him? What do you mean, get him?" Rick asked.

"I mean we should get him out. Bring him here. Is no good there," Viktor stated.

"How would we do that?" Greg asked.

"We go. We tell him we know Nasir. We tell him we know what happened and we are very sorry and we take him," Viktor gave a shrug.

"You're bloody serious," Rick observed.

"How could we just do that?" Dré asked. "You make it sound simple, but it wouldn't be."

"Well, let's think this through," Greg laid his hands flat on the table. "We'd need to find him and make contact somehow. Then we'd need a plane ticket and not just for him, but all of us. He's an Indian, so he must have a passport from India. And, Vik, you're leaving for Austria for training camp tomorrow. When would we do this?"

"I must go with team to camp. You must go without me," Viktor was clear.

"Oh, that's just great," Greg did not like the sound of that.

"Luna can stay with Helena," Viktor stated. "You know she will. And you are brave and strong and much smarter than me."

"Huh," Dré scoffed.

"Shut it, you wanker," Greg said to Dré and then looked to his partner. "Well, I don't know about the brave and strong part."

Rick could not help his snicker. Viktor laughed and gathered his man to him in a bear hug. He kissed Greg right between his eyes for emphasis.

"Okay, so, plane tickets," Greg took back up. "And how would we get him into the country?" Greg, Viktor and Rick turned to Dré.

"Oh, bloody hell. You lot are going to make me ask my father, aren't you?" Dré complained.

"It's a good cause, Duck," Vince spoke for the first time since they arrived.

"I know it is," Dré reluctantly agreed. The influence that the thin diva's partner had on him was not lost on any of them. "I'll get my mum to ask him. Christ knows the bastard owes her a couple of million favors. If the upcoming elections go the way I think they might, he'll go from being the Shadow Home Secretary to the actual Home Secretary, and then there'll be no living with him."

"You make me wish I could vote," Viktor commented.

"If only, mate, if only," Dré nodded and took a gulp of his beer.

"We'll need to rent a couple of cars probably," Greg continued to think out loud. "A hotel fairly near to the airport, I think. And we'll need Nasir's family's address."

"You have your phone? Call Emmett now," Viktor gestured with his half full glass.

"Why don't I just do that, then?" Greg pulled out his cell and scrolled to Emmett's number.


Across the ocean and continent Emmett had only just returned from lunch. He wore dress pants and shirt, and sat in his office at his desk. He read an email from his boss on changes to be made to plans Emmett had been working on for a major hotel remodel in Portland.

"Dammit," Emmett muttered aloud to himself. "This is exactly what you told me not to do in the first place," he shook his head as he thought about all the hours he had wasted heading down the wrong path. His cell rang from where it sat atop his desk and Emmett glanced at it to see who was calling. When he saw the number, Emmett snatched up the phone.

"Hey, Greg. This is a pleasant surprise," Emmett's smile could be clearly heard in his voice.

"Hi, Emmett. We got your email, obviously," Greg greeted. "We're all just here at the pub."

"Oh, say 'hi' to everybody," Emmett bid.

"Emmett says 'hi'," Greg relayed.

"Tell Emmett, bear hug!" Viktor leaned in close to his partner and spoke loudly toward the phone.

Emmett laughed. "Tell Vik, right back atcha."

"You two," Greg shook his head. Viktor chuckled to himself. He very much liked Emmett. There were few men with whom he could do that.

"So, what's up, Greg?" Emmett asked.

"So, the boys and I have been talking. First, we're really glad that you two got out okay and you're safe," Greg began.

"Thanks. Things got a little tense there for a minute," Emmett understated.

"We just can't stop thinking about that poor Indian lad, left behind all alone," Greg added.

"Oh, I know. It just kills me that Pankaj got killed. They were so cute together too. They were real cool when people were watching, but you could tell," Emmett spoke fondly. "Ashok's a real sweet kid and he lost his partner. How would you or I feel if we lost Viktor or Nasi suddenly and violently, you know? And he can't let anyone see him cry. He has no one to talk to, no one to comfort him because no one can know. It just kills us."

"We were rather thinking along the same lines, mate," Greg agreed, "and wondered if we couldn't just get him out of there."

"Oh, my God, I know! I so wish there were some way to get him out of there, to rescue him from that hell he must be in," Emmett completely agreed.

"Right. Exactly what we were thinking. Now obviously you and Nasir can't go back to the Emirates, but what's to stop us going in?" Greg asked.

"What? Really? Greg, are you serious? Oh my God!" Emmett was beside himself. "That would be incredible!"

"We haven't quite worked out the logistics of it yet, but yes, we are very serious," Greg stated.

"Oh my God. Let me just shut my office door here, and can you hang on a quick sec while I get Nasi on the line with us? He's at home," Emmett asked.

"Go right ahead, mate," Greg agreed. "He's going to link in Nasir right now."

"Good," Viktor nodded.

"So, who's in? And when are we going to go?" Greg stated.

"Go right away," Viktor urged.

"I've got nothing big on at the museum until next month, so now would actually be a good time," Dré affirmed.

"We're in," Vince added as he pulled his slight lover tighter to his side.

"Hell, I'm in too. I've got plenty of holiday," Rick gestured with his glass before he took a gulp.

"What, you're not going to wait around for H to see how he makes up for missing your anniversary?" Dré questioned in a mocking tone.

"Fuck no! The bastard had the cheek to get angry with me for being upset when he canceled our anniversary weekend. He says he'll reschedule, but it won't be the same. And frankly, he's not the only one who has a life. If he plans something for when I'm gone, I'll be glad to have a reason to miss it," Rick let his hurt pride and anger show.

"Greg," Emmett came back on the line, "I've got Nasi on with us."

"Greg!" Nasir's excited voice greeted.

"Nasir, mate. Glad to hear you're safe in your home with Emmett where you belong," Greg greeted.

"No one can be more glad of it than me. Greg, you think you can get Ashok?" Nasir asked.

"I don't see why not. We just need to find him and make contact. You don't think he would hesitate, do you?" Greg countered.

"No! He would jump at the chance now that he has lost Pankaj, once he knows he can trust you," Nasir assured. "I will email you a letter of introduction for you to give him from me. You must not let anyone see you give it to him. I will also email you my parents' address and detailed directions. I do not know who will be driving for them now. It will either be Ashok or Vijay."

"Oh, right. I was going to ask how to best make contact. Now, how do we tell them apart? It won't do to give your letter to the wrong man," Greg made the point.

"They are easy to tell apart. Vijay has a pot belly and a big nose. Ashok is young, thin and very cute," Nasir stated.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have any trouble on that score," Emmett added.

"Sounds easy enough," Greg agreed.

"Greg, you will take him to the UK? How will you do that?" Nasir asked. "Will he not need a visa?"

"Dré's father will take care of that. The British Embassy will be standing by to assist us," Greg informed. He looked to Dré and gave a questioning shrug. Dré only nodded in confirmation.

"Greg, you must email me your bank information right away. I will have Garrett wire you money this afternoon," Nasir stated.

"Oh. I guess I hadn't given any thought to what this will cost," Greg confessed and shrugged at his friends again.

"Who all is gonna go, Greg?" Emmett asked.

"Dré, Vince, Rick and I. Vik is off to training camp tomorrow," Greg answered.

"Or else I go also," Viktor assured loudly.

"We will pay for everything, Greg. Garrett will wire you fifty thousand dollars, US. Will that be enough?" Nasir asked.

"Christ's sake, Nasir. It surely won't cost that!" Greg protested.

"I hope you do not think to fly economy. We do not fly economy and would not ask our friends to fly economy either. I like to think of you comfortable in First on British Airways. You very much deserve it. And you do not know what might come up. Do not protest. It is the very least we can do," Nasir instructed.

"Well, I'm sure we can make do in club class," Greg hedged.

"Then you use the rest to take care of him until he gets established. And you let us know if you need more. Greg, this is a most wonderful thing that you do," Nasir did not attempt to disguise his admiration.

"I agree, Greg. We can't thank you guys enough," Emmett echoed.

"Thank us when we have him safely on English soil. I'll get my email off in just a bit. You chaps email me every detail you can think of," Greg wrapped up.

"Let's stay in close touch, Greg. Call anytime, day or night," Emmett stressed.

"We'll send along flight details as soon as we know them. Cheers, mates. We'll be talking very soon," Greg finished.

"Bye, Greg, and thanks again," Emmett spoke.

"Yes, thank you so much, Greg. You do not know what this means to us," Nasir added.

"I look at it this way: Ashok's our brother too. Cheers, mates," Greg said again and hung up his phone.

"What was that bit about club class? How much is this going to cost?" Dré demanded.

"Nasir is wiring money. He wants to underwrite our little excursion," Greg revealed.

"Oh, well, in that case," Dré was more than satisfied.

Rick pulled his phone from his pocket, "When do we leave?"

"See when the flights are. I'll just send a quick email with our bank info." Greg pulled up the email app on his phone.

"We'll fly British, right?" Rick asked.

"Is there another airline?" Dré was snobbishly dry.

"There's a flight tomorrow night at nine forty," Rick informed.

"Do we know where our passports are?" Dré asked.

"I do," Vince assured.

"There. Now I'll just send a quick note to Luna to make sure she's on board," Greg worked away.

"Is good," Viktor declared with a firm nod.

"Lene and I were going to join you at the end of camp and then go see your family in Varna," Greg observed.

"Why you don't do that still?" Viktor asked.

"Oh, we will. I just won't be able to spend as much time with your mum and your family as we originally planned," Greg stated.

"Why don't you just meet him in Varna?" Dré asked.

"I don't fancy landing in Varna without Vik. I don't speak the language," Greg protested. Viktor narrowed his eyes at his partner.

"Tay obicham, Grigor," Viktor spoke. Greg could not keep the smile from his face.

"I love you too, Sweets," Greg leaned toward his partner. Viktor closed his eyes as his lover softly brushed their lips together.

"And would you now like to try another excuse?" Dré enquired.

"Knowing a few key words and phrases that are important to me is not the same thing as speaking the language," Greg pointed out. "How would knowing how to say 'I love you' in Bulgarian help me out in the Varna airport? Besides, it will be fun to meet up in Austria. We'll just come in a day or two in advance now so I can spend the most time with your mum and family."

"Is good. My maika and sestra and brat all love you," Viktor stated.

"I know they do. I love them too. It'll be fun to be there for the holiday," Greg added.

"What holiday is that then?" Dré asked.

"There, we're all booked. I'm sending us all confirmations," Rick announced. "Now, you said hotel near the airport? We'll share, Greg, right?"

"That's fine," Greg agreed.

"I'll get two rooms with twin beds," Rick joked. Vince said nothing, but swung his arm to wap the taller man's shoulder with his knuckles. Rick only snickered as he worked.

"Preobrazhenie," Viktor answered the blonde man's question.

"What the hell is that?" Dré pressed.

"Is like carnival. We eat!" Viktor enthused. "My maika make traditional zagoveznishka cake."

"My, doesn't that sound appetizing?" Dré deadpanned.

"It's very good actually," Greg endorsed.

"There are a lot of nice hotels in Dubai. We're going to Dubai, right?" Rick asked.

"Fuck, Diggory, where the hell did you book us?" Dré demanded.

"I booked us to Dubai. There's an airport in Abu Dhabi as well. I just wanted to make sure," Rick defended.

"Yeah, it's Dubai," Greg confirmed.

"How about the Radisson Blu? It's right on the river in the old city and only like two miles from the airport," Rick offered.

"Sounds perfect," Greg gave a nod.

"Right," Ricked keyed away. "Club level rooms?"

"Rick," Greg made a disapproving face.

"Full English, cocktails, tea?" Rick spread his hands.

"Snacks?" Vince asked.

"It pays for itself, Gregory. Book the club rooms," Dré dictated.


Luna rose from where she quietly watched the big flat screen television mounted on the wall in the spacious living room when the front door opened.

"Hi, boys," the platinum blonde woman greeted them with her trademark sweet smile.

"Hi, Lunes. Sorry we're so late," Greg gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You're sure it's no trouble? I know this is really short notice."

"I can sleep here just as easily as at my place. I'll just bring a bag to work with me and come home with you," Luna patted Greg's arm for emphasis.

"Okay, thanks. We can have dinner, the three of us," Greg suggested.

"Brilliant," Luna was agreeable. She picked up her handbag from where she had hung it on the banister post as was her habit. "See you tomorrow."

"Night. Cheers," Greg smiled.

"Be right back," Viktor leaned to give his partner a kiss on his lips before he walked out with Luna. It was a given that Viktor would walk Luna back to the Notting Hill Gate tube station. Greg shut the front door behind them and then carefully made his way down the stairs. High on his list of priorities was checking on his sleeping daughter. On the lower garden level was the spacious master suite and a smaller connected bedroom that they had turned into a walk in closet, their daughter's good sized bedroom, and the front and back gardens. The door to Helena's bedroom was never fully closed, but nearly so while she slept. Greg pushed open the door and leaned into the quiet room. Satisfied that his daughter was asleep in her big girl bed, Greg walked carefully across the room to her. He reached a hand to gently stroke her hair while resisting the considerable urge to pick her up for a proper hug. He wanted a hug from his little girl, but his fatherly instinct told him to let the sleeping child be. Greg withdrew from his daughter's bedroom as quietly as he entered it and proceeded to the opposite end of the hall to the master suite. He pulled his tank top off over his head as he did so and dropped it on the bed. His sandals, shorts and underwear were shed as well and he pulled a pair of pajama bottoms from a chest of drawers near the door. Greg shook the bottoms out, stepped into them, pulled them up and tied a bow to keep them in place. Since the day their daughter could get out of bed by herself, he and his Gunner stopped sleeping naked. Greg remembered with a smile that morning they were awakened by a little body crawling across them on top of the sheet and blanket. By sheer luck Greg's boxers had been right beside the bed and while Helena worked herself and her doll into the bed, he quickly grabbed them and slipped them on. Viktor kept the blankets snugly about himself while he cuddled their daughter. Greg had risen and taken Helena with him to head for the kitchen, leaving Viktor to get up and put something on. Since that day the number of times Greg woke to a half hard Bulgarian cock rubbing along his nose was equal to the number of times he woke up with three people in their king size bed.

Greg just stood smiling at the memories of his family in his bedroom and was only brought back to the present when he heard his partner come in through the door above. He walked out into the hall as Viktor descended the stairs.

"There is my slunchitze," Viktor took Greg in his arms. The Brit relished the feel of his man's strong arms on his bare skin. That just never got old.

"Mmm," Greg closed his eyes and rubbed Viktor's muscular back through his tight tank top.

"I check on Lena now," Viktor let go of his man and snuck quietly into their daughter's room just as Greg had done. Viktor did not have the self control his partner did and bent down to kiss the sleeping child on her temple.

"Don't wake her," Greg whispered. He made a face at himself and regretted the nag as soon as it left his lips. A better and more doting father than Viktor Krum had never been born.

"I not wake her," Viktor smiled lovingly at his sleeping daughter a moment before walking back out to join Greg in the hall. "You, come," Viktor commanded as he peeled his tank top off. Once in their bedroom Viktor worked his sneakers off his big feet, toe to heel, and lifted each foot in turn to peel off his white ankle socks. "Close door," he added as he unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts. He let them drop and, as he wore nothing beneath, stepped out of them naked. Greg did as he was told and took in the sight of his lover's chiseled nude form. A sight which, even after seven years, never failed to cause his cock to stir. Greg walked to Viktor and watched one side of his lover's almost goateed mouth turn up in a smile as the Bulgarian reached for his pajama bottoms. Greg felt Viktor pull the tie to release the bow.

"You not need this," Viktor stated.

"No?" Greg played coy.

"I go tomorrow and no see you for over three weeks. I need you now," Viktor pulled the waistband of his lover's sleep pants loose and both men were already half hard as the garment fell to the floor.

"I hate training camp," Greg confessed as he ran his hands over his lover's big, solid pecs that were lightly dusted in hair. Viktor moved Greg to the side of the bed and pushed him to sit down on it. The Bulgarian knelt between his lover's pale legs.

"Lay back," Viktor instructed as he spread Greg's legs wide apart and moved between them. Greg leaned back on his elbows as Viktor lowered his head and began to kiss his way up Greg's nearly hairless left thigh. The Brit's pale, uncut, short, but beer can thick post stood at full attention by the time Viktor's lips reached his balls. Viktor kissed each orb reverently in their nearly smooth sac. Greg had little hair on his scrotum and didn't bother to shave. Viktor ran his scruffy chin over them and enjoyed the gasp that forced from his lover. He looked up into Greg's eyes as he ran his tongue beneath the loose British eggs.

"Oh, Vik, I love that," Greg watched his talented lover support his stones on a strong tongue before Viktor drew one into his mouth. Greg laid back flat on their bed as his testicles each took a turn in the sensual embrace of his lover's mouth. Greg's erection was such that it did not lay on his abdomen, but rather stood up somewhat from his body. His foreskin pulled completely free of his head when he was aroused and the thick cock stood trembling in anticipation as Viktor at last relinquished Greg's nuts.

"Ugh, yeah, Sweet," Greg felt Viktor's tongue travel slowly up his sensitive cum tube to his head. Viktor gave a lick through the snake's moist eye. He stretched his lips around Greg's spike and went down on the pale post.

"Ugh," Greg moaned again as the most of his cock filled his lover's mouth. Viktor slowly drew his lips up the fat tool and sank down again.

"Get that big Bulgarian gun up here," Greg raised his head and watched Viktor slowly pull off of his engorged penis. Viktor smiled and stood up between Greg's legs at the edge of the bed.

"My slunchitze want Bulgarian cock?" Viktor tilted his head and took hold of his imposing weapon. He was not Greg's thickness, as very few men were, but had several inches on his lover.

"I need Bulgarian cock. My Bulgarian cock," Greg reached for Viktor. "Get up here."

Viktor only smiled and moved around to the foot of the bed. He climbed up on the bed on his knees, still holding onto himself, and smacked Greg across the face with his formidable organ. His precum left a smear across Greg's cheek.

"Oh, yeah. Smack me around with it!" Greg enthused. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and his own prick twitched as Viktor smacked him with his big dick again. Viktor tried a third time, but Greg caught him with his lips. Greg lunged forward and took Viktor in his throat.

"Ugh!" Viktor was taken by surprise. He let go of himself and leaned forward on his fists on the mattress as his lover took him down his throat. "Lapai mi huia."

Greg doubted whether Viktor realized that he had just told him to suck his dick in Bulgarian, but fortunately he knew what that meant, and he needed no urging anyway. Greg reached around to the footballer's hard, round ass and massaged both firm glutes as he deeply sucked the long, hard spear.

"You like I fuck your face?" Viktor looked down on his lover. "Da ti go nachookam v ustichkata," he smiled as he told Greg that he would fuck his face in his native language. Greg could only guess at that one, but was pretty sure what it meant when Viktor began to thrust into his mouth. The stronger man closed his eyes and tossed his head back as he bucked his pole down his partner's throat.

"No, no," Viktor stopped after a moment and pulled his prick out of his lover's mouth. "This no good," he shook his head. Viktor moved to lay down on his back next to Greg on the bed head to toe. Greg smiled. He knew what his lover wanted. Greg rolled over and got up on all fours while straddling the prone muscular footballer.

"Da," Viktor ran his hands appreciatively up Greg's thighs. "This I like," he stuck out his tongue and captured the drop of precum from the tip of the fat organ that hung in his face. In truth, Greg liked this position too. He spread his legs wider apart to lower his cock into his lover's waiting and willing mouth. It was much easier for him to be on top and control the sex as while his crank could make his lover's jaw ache, it was not as likely that he would choke Viktor with it. On the other hand, his hung Gunner had a cock that could choke anyone, and while Greg had a deep throat, while he was on top he could control how and when and for how long he took it down his throat. Greg admired the sight of the hard, quivering Bulgarian meat as it lay on the furry, rippled abdomen beneath it. Viktor's heavy orbs hung in their smoothly shaved sac between his wide spread legs. Greg ran his tongue along his lover's sensitive cum tube and smiled when the big dick gave a jump and hit his chin. He felt Viktor's tongue circle around his head within the prone man's mouth. Greg supported himself by slipping his left arm under Viktor's muscular left thigh. He knew Viktor liked this and expected the appreciative moan he heard as well as felt around his own hardness in Viktor's mouth. Greg held up the big Bulgarian prick and gave it a wet kiss on it's now weeping head.

"Hmm," Viktor felt his lover's lips wrap around him again. He felt his bone sink slowly into Greg's mouth and down his lover's throat. "Mmph!" Viktor ran his hands up onto Greg's pale ass as the man lowered his hips more and began to thrust into his mouth. Greg loved the feel of his lover's hard body beneath him and the tight embrace of his mouth around his thick crank almost as much as he loved taking the big Gunner's weapon down his throat. He gave short, deep, siphoning sucks on the drooling joint as he pressed his pubes to Viktor's lips and gave small deep thrusts to match. Viktor really liked when his man made love to him this way. He loved the feel of Greg's thick cock as it thrust into his mouth. Viktor closed his eyes and dropped his arms out to his sides. He felt Greg's lips slip up and down his straining bone. Viktor's strength was easily twice that of his partner, but he relished the imagined feel of being powerless beneath Greg, being used for his pleasure and taken at the same time.

Greg sucked his lover's cock in time with his thrusts into Viktor's mouth. It turned Greg on no end as the big organ throbbed in his mouth. He could taste the Gunner's continuously leaking precum. Beneath him the prone man's lips clutched to his own post as he fucked his lover's mouth. Greg alternated by taking every inch, surprisingly easy at this angle, of the Bulgarian spear down his throat. He felt the muscular body beneath him respond and timed it just right. It was a game Greg very much enjoyed. He stifled Viktor's moan by sinking his entire post to the back of his lover's throat. Greg loved the feel of the Gunner's twitching muscles and the way Viktor's mouth and tongue moved around his buried mast, as his pelvis pressed into Viktor's face and the big cock throbbed down his throat. Viktor would have moaned very loudly if he could have. He loved when Greg shoved every inch of his fat spike into him. He loved the way Greg's balls lay over his nose and the feel of the tight, warm, wet confines of his lover's mouth and throat as Greg swallowed his entire length. If they could but only stay that way forever, but alas they both needed air. Greg drew his mouth half way up the Gunner's primed weapon and moved his hips to lift his own joint in Viktor's mouth.

"Mmph!" Viktor finally let go his very satisfied moan as Greg's head began to bob on his rock hard cock. He did his best to massage with his lips and tongue the thick penis that began to piston in his mouth. Viktor ran his hands up Greg's thighs again to massage the flexing glutes with his strong fingers. His eyes nearly crossed when Greg took hold of his tightening balls. Greg knew how much it turned Viktor on when he gripped his Gunner's big nuts and massaged them with his hand while he sucked Viktor's hard, leaking, straining penis.

"Hm, mm," Viktor moaned around the thick, thrusting prick as Greg increased his pace. Viktor was powerless in the hands, and mouth, of his talented British lover as the man above him propelled them both toward orgasm. Greg held his lover's big stones in a firm massaging grip as he sucked the throbbing cock faster. He moved his hips to fuck Viktor's face harder and deeper and knew he would lose it soon.

"Hmmph," Greg almost whined as his orgasm fast approached. He sucked Viktor's throbbing crank with abandon, wanting to make his lover come with him. Viktor saw that his lover's orbs were pulled tight to the base of his cock as the fat post stabbed deep in his mouth. He felt Greg's fingers squeeze his own stones in his smooth and ever tightening sac. Greg's thrusts became erratic as his control over his own body became difficult. He saw the well developed muscles of Viktor's thighs flex and felt his lover's strong body tremble beneath him. Greg squeezed his eyes shut as he teetered on the brink. He sucked Viktor's big joint harder and faster yet in his desperation. Viktor's open eyes could no longer see and he ceased trying to draw a breath as every muscle in his body tensed. Greg was so going to make him come, and very hard, but he fought valiantly to hold out. Viktor did not want to come until Greg did.

Greg sucked his lover's big cock as hard as he could and massaged the heavy eggs in their tight sac with a firm grip, but it was too late. He scrunched his whole face around Viktor's iron hard penis and struggled to continue to suck properly as he blew out in the Gunner's mouth. Viktor heard Greg make the almost whine that he made, muffled though it was by his own dick, that was music to the Bulgarian's ears, even as semen flooded his mouth. Viktor's eyes crossed and his back arched beneath Greg. The Brit had barely the wit to notice his lover's joint grow even harder as the Gunner's weapon went off in his mouth.

"Umph!" Greg thrilled to the copious outpouring of jizz. He sucked Viktor's blasting organ even as he continued to buck his own spurting joint into his lover's mouth. Viktor only gurgled beneath Greg as he gulped his lover's juice. He tried to swallow all of the sweet British cream, but was just not fast enough. Rivulets of milk escaped the corners of his mouth as Greg thrust deeply and continued to unload in his mouth. Greg did not spill a drop as he drank from the big Bulgarian hose. He sucked the prone man only gently and slowly now as Viktor's potent spunk gushed into his mouth. Greg gulped down a mouthful of Krum juice and his mouth filled again. Viktor sputtered around the thick post and quickly wrapped his arms around Greg's waist to hold him in place as his lover tried to lift his hips. Greg did not want Viktor to choke on his load, but Viktor held him firmly in place. The Gunner loved when his man nearly drowned him with his cum. Greg suckled at Viktor's still oozing cock and let go of the big loosening nuts. He wrapped his hand around the Gunner's weapon to milk Viktor of his every drop.

When Greg was satisfied that he had everything Viktor had to give, he at last relinquished the still hard bone and laid his head down on his lover's hip.

"Ugh, Vik," Greg closed his eyes and let his panting mouth turn up in a smile. He knew Viktor was not finished with him. Unless there was some interruption, or they were in a hurry, Viktor liked to hold his lover's fat cock in his mouth, in it's natural juices, until Greg softened. Only when Greg was finally at half mast did Viktor release his hold on his lover's waist. Viktor lifted Greg up and let his partner's cummy cock slide from his lips. He licked his lips and swallowed all of Greg's essence that remained as he pulled his lover's body back down onto him. Greg let his body relax fully on top of Viktor with his cock and balls on the Gunner's neck.

"Hmm. My slunchitze taste so good," Viktor murmured contentedly. He wrapped one arm around Greg's waist again and with his other hand soothingly rubbed his partner's back.

"God I love you," Greg confessed.

"Tay obicham, Grigor," Viktor said the same. "No, no move," Viktor held Greg tightly when he felt his lover begin to stir. "We stay this way," he tucked his chin to give Greg a kiss right where butt cheek met thigh between his lover's splayed legs. Greg grinned and gave a sigh. He knew they would not actually sleep the whole night like this, but understood why his strong lover was reluctant to release him. And he felt the same way.


Helena had been to Emirates Stadium before, though never on a match day. Greg and Viktor would not have her subjected to the crush of people on the underground that a match generated. They had ridden the Central Line from Notting Hill Gate station seven stops to Holborn station and there transferred to the Piccadilly Line. Five stops later they rode the escalator to the surface at the tube station that served the stadium. Both fathers wore simple tee shirts and jeans. Their daughter wore a thin pink sweater and skirt with tights beneath. Her look was completed by shoes that matched a little white leather handbag she wore with the strap over her head and shoulder, so it crossed her body. She had her own oyster for the underground, and very responsibly kept it safe and accounted for in her little purse. Both of her fathers were very proud of her for that. Viktor had two duffel bags packed for his extended trip. Greg lugged a large one while Viktor carried an even larger one strapped across his back. Helena wanted to carry something as well and Viktor had given her his official team cap, which she held almost reverently in both hands. The team assembled at the stadium, as Arséne Wenger would have everyone go together as a group, and had chartered an aircraft that waited now at Stanstead.

The team photographer snapped pictures as the players, coaches and other support staff assembled before the two busses in the stadium parking lot by the players' entrance. Greg smiled as he saw the usual gathering of wives, girlfriends and a few other children. Tomas Rosicky, the Gunner from the Czech Republic, held his five year old daughter in his arms while his wife and seven year old son stood beside him. Greg was exceedingly happy to be a recognized member of the Gunners' families. And for his part, Viktor was no less proud of his family than any other Gunner. Like Viktor, all the other players were dressed in casual clothes. Arséne himself wore a simple gray team sweatshirt with the sleeves scrunched up and jeans. Several of the coaches dressed as he did.

"Hey, guys," Cesc Fabregas greeted them with a clap on Viktor's back as his fellow Midfielder added his bags to the pile. He had a friendly handshake for Greg with a pat on the shoulder. "And who is this very pretty little girl who is getting so big?" he smiled down on Helena.

"Hi, Cesc," Helena smiled. She remembered the friendly Spaniard well. Kieran stood nearby in his usual pose with his hands in his shorts pockets, tucked under Lukasz's arm, with his chest to the Pole's ribs. Lukasz absently rubbed his man's back as they stood talking with Armand and Fiona.

"Oh, look. Viktor's daughter is here," Kieran pulled out from under his lover's protective, possessive arm. Lukasz but glanced at his departing partner and let him go, as he was in mid sentence.

"Hi, Helena," Kieran beamed at the little girl as he squatted down beside her.

"Hi, Kieran," Helena smiled and reached to pat him on the shoulder. Kieran was not his usual shy self with little kids and Helena liked the attention he always had for her.

"Did you come to see your dad off this morning?" Kieran asked the question to which he clearly knew the answer.

"I did," Helena said proudly.

"That was really sweet of you. Are you going to miss him? I know he will very much miss you," Kieran rubbed her arm.

"I will miss daddy. Especially at night. I do so like to fall asleep listening to his voice. And daddy will miss him too," Helena explained.

"I know he will. Viktor loves you both very much. Can I have a hug before we go?," Kieran asked and opened his arms. The little girl did not hesitate to launch herself into his arms.

"Hi, Greg," Fiona had a kiss on the cheek for her fellow Gunner partner.

"Hi, Fee," Greg patted her back.

"Are you going into work today?" Fiona asked.

"I do have to go in," Greg answered.

"Pity. I took the day off. Thought maybe I could entice you into a day of lunch and shopping," Fiona put a hand to the back of Helena's head. "Just us girls."

Greg laughed. "We'll have to give it a miss this time, I'm afraid."

"Lukasz!" Viktor took hold of the Keeper's shoulder and grabbed Kieran's as well when the slighter man stood up next to them. "I envy you both, so much!"

"I know!" Lukasz pulled his lover to his chest. "I not go over three weeks without Kieran. I not do it," the Pole shook his head vehemently.

"Lucky buggers," Greg muttered.

"I share with Andrey," Viktor announced.

"Oh, will you?" Greg looked around for the Russian.

"I know he will be missing girl. There will be much slapping meat in our room. I tell you this," Viktor stated.

"A little hand to gland combat?" Greg chuckled. "You know I will be too."

"You boys," Fiona shook her head.

"Don't let Arséne hear you say that," Kieran shook his head. He looked up at Lukasz. "I'm kind of surprised he's letting us room together."

"He know if he do not, we not go," Lukasz was firm.

A whistle blew at that moment. "Gentlemen," Arséne called in his French accent. Greg quickly leaned down beside Helena.

"Do you remember what I told you?" Greg asked in a whisper. The little girl nodded her confirmation.

"Come here, my princess," Viktor picked his daughter up and held her tightly in his arms. "My precious girl."

"I love you, Tatee," Helena held her arms around her bigger father's thick neck as tightly as she could.

"Oh! I love you call me that!" Viktor held her even tighter. When his daughter called him daddy in his language his heart absolutely melted. "You make me most happy father in whole world! I love you too, my precious princess. You be good for daddy and for mum while we both gone."

"I will, Tatee," Helena agreed. Viktor covered her little face in kisses while she giggled in his arms.

"I put you down now. I must hug daddy too," Viktor said as he placed his daughter back on her little feet. Helena stood at her fathers' side and smiled as Viktor took Greg in his arms. It always made her feel good to witness her parents be affectionate with each other.

"You did that," Viktor said quietly into Greg's ear as he held his lover tightly.

"I love you, Vik. We both do," Greg rubbed his partner's strong back.

"I love you, Grigor," Viktor closed his eyes and just held Greg for a long moment.

"Cesc, a little help, please," Arséne complained.

"Gunners!" Cesc called out loudly and clapped his hands.

"Okay. I go now. Go save boy," Viktor pulled back enough to give his partner a soft, loving kiss on his lips.

"Have fun. Train hard," Greg bid.

"I be very hard next I see you. Do not doubt," Viktor patted his man's shoulder.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that. Me too!" Greg chuckled. Viktor bent to give his daughter one last kiss on her cheek while he squeezed Greg's arm and then headed for the first bus. Helena took her father's hand as they watched Viktor and the other players board their coach. Finally, as the coaches pulled out, they and the other families began to disperse.

"Time to go, my girl," Greg led his daughter by the hand as they headed back toward the tube station.

"Daddy, what does gland combat mean?" Helena looked up at her father with a most innocent face.

"Lene, some one of these days I'm going to explain that to you," Greg said as they walked. "But by that time you'll probably know more than me."


Seth wore only denim shorts and an open black leather vest. Emmett sat with him in plaid shorts and a white tank top that stretched across his massive chest. It was well after dinner as they relaxed out on the broad penthouse terrace. The only illumination in the dark night was from the open French doors and the normal lights of the city around them.

"Fifty grand, huh?" Seth mused. "Do you think it will cost that much?"

"Hell, they can have three times that. Whatever it takes," Emmett stressed.

"I suppose it's worth any amount of money to ease Nasir's conscience. I know he blames himself," Seth stated.

"We both blame ourselves!" Emmett corrected.

"I know you do, Emmy," Seth took the bigger man's hand, "but what happened is not your fault, or Nasir's. The only person responsible is the assassin who pulled the trigger."

"Pankaj only died because he was mistaken for Nasi, because we switched cars. His death will always be on our heads, Seth. It will," Emmett was firm in his conviction. "If we can help poor little Ashok, it's worth any price."

"If they can get him out of there and take him to the UK, he will have a chance to start over with good people around him and where he is safe," Nasir added as he and Garrett emerged from the house. Nasir carried a tumbler of scotch and a Spaten for Emmett. He wore a tank top and board shorts. Garrett walked beside him with a Kettle One martini for himself and a Grey Goose cosmo for his husband. Garrett was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans with a hole in the left knee.

"Thanks, Babe," Emmett took his beer bottle as Nasir and Garrett joined their men. "Ashok probably has no idea what it's like to be in a place where he can be free and open about who he is."

"He could not," Nasir agreed.

"He sure did seem like a sweet kid," Seth remembered. "I know they really appreciated their night in the desert with us when we did that," Seth put his hand on Garrett's knee and absently ran his fingers into the hole in Garrett's jeans. A smile played at Garrett's lips. This was why he wore these jeans. He knew Seth did it without even thinking and Garrett loved it.

"Even if they get him out and he makes a good life for himself in the UK, his partner died for me. I will never be able to make up for that. Not ever," Nasir's remorse was clear in his voice as he shook his head.

"When are they leaving?" Seth asked.

"It's already tomorrow there. Greg said the night flight out on British Airways in his email. The same one we took," Emmett answered.

"Here's to the success of our British friends," Garrett raised his glass. "May four go and five safely come back."

"Amen to that, Garrett," Emmett touched the neck of his bottle to Garrett's martini glass.

"Inshallah," Nasir echoed and lifted his glass.

"I'm gonna get my feather," Seth set his glass on the table and rose from his chair. "It brought you two home safely. It can do the same for them," he strode determinedly into the house.


Helena spent the day in the children's center at BBC Television Centre in West London. Greg, Luna and Helena all walked together the short block to the White City tube station on the Central Line. Luna had come to work packed to stay. She rolled her suitcase along behind her as they walked. Three quick stops later and they were at Notting Hill Gate station. All three of them busied themselves in the kitchen as they prepared their dinner. After dinner, Helena knelt on the big king bed in her parents' bedroom and helped her father pack. Greg used a proper suitcase as he would be traveling on a regular commercial flight. He changed into a pink button down shirt and black jeans that Helena picked out for him. A small carry on for toiletries and other travel necessities was slung over Greg's shoulder. When he was finished he checked to make sure he had his passport, hugged his little girl, thanked Luna again with a kiss, and off he went.

There were three lines that ran through Notting Hill Gate station. This time Greg boarded the Circle Line. Two stops up was Paddington Station. Rick was waiting with his luggage in the station. The tall, lanky man looked sexy in a pale blue Henley with his sleeves scrunched up and snug jeans. Greg bought them each a round trip ticket and they boarded the Heathrow Express train.

"Saw Viktor off, then?" Rick asked once they were seated comfortably in their carriage.

"Lene and I went with him to the stadium this morning. I hate being without him for so long, but this trip will very much help take my mind off it," Greg gave a nod. He looked to his taller friend and instantly regretted what he had said. No one went without the man he loved like Rick did. "Sorry, mate," Greg patted Rick's hand. "Did you tell H you were off?"

"No. I'm not supposed to contact him, right? He can just wonder where I am, if he'll even notice I'm gone," Rick sounded bitter.

"He'll be furious when you see him next," Greg pointed out.

"Fuck him. He made the rules, he can live with them. Besides, I deserve a holiday and it's not like I'll ever take one with him. Hell, I can't even get a night in town with him on our anniversary. At least this way I can openly have a great time somewhere exotic." Rick shrugged and gave a smile that looked too bright not to be forced.

"You know how sorry I am you can't be open in your relationship, Rick, and I'm very glad you're coming with us. As for H, it would serve him right to be frantic for once, wondering where you are and who you're with." Greg squeezed Rick's hand. He looked to his long time friend and gave him a supportive smile. Greg knew Rick was hurting inside and only putting on a brave front. Rick sat for a long minute and then pulled his phone from his messenger bag. He touched the picture of H and touched the key to dial him.

"Are you mad, calling me at this hour? Ginny's in the bath, but she might easily have been right here!" H answered in an angry voice.

"Lovely to hear your voice too, H," Rick spoke in a sad, resigned voice. "You know I don't call without a good reason."

"What is it, then?" H demanded.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm on my way to the airport," Rick informed.

"The airport? Are you meeting someone?" H pressed.

"Flying out, actually. Something came up and Greg, Dré, Vince and I have to dash off out of the country. I don't quite know when we'll be back," Rick informed.

"What do you mean you don't know when you'll be back?" H raised his voice. "I mean to see you this week. I have it all arranged," he lowered his voice to a whisper. "One of my fake business trips. We'll meet at the house and be together all night. Don't mess this up, Rick."

"Don't mess this up! Who messed it up last time? We were supposed to be together on our anniversary, H! That really meant something to me. I mean it would have done," Rick stated.

"Oh, God, Rick. Must we go over this again? If I wanted to listen to womanly whining, I would just stay home with Ginny," H was devoid of compassion or concern for the man he professed to love.

"Why don't you just do that, then!" Rick hung up his phone, turned it off, and placed it back in his bag.

"I'm sorry, Rick," Greg could not help overhearing in the seat right next to his friend.

"Don't be, Greg," Rick let his head fall back to rest on the seat. He gave a wry smile. "I should have snatched you up when I had the chance."

"There was a time you easily could have done, mate, but that was a long time ago," Greg gave a small smile.

"Does Viktor know how lucky he is?" Rick asked.

"Is Vik lucky? I think I'm the lucky one. He's a bloody traffic stopping Gunner!" Greg enthused.

"That's exactly what you said when you first met him!" Rick chuckled.

"Well, it's just as true today, mate," Greg stated.