Title: 20 Questions
Word Count: 1,100
Summary: In which Harry's mates get him pissed and interrogate him.
Disclaimer: This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Author's Note: This is the third in a series of ficlet sequels to Law of Averages. If there is a an aspect of Blaise and Harry's life or a scenario within the Law of Averages universe you are interested in seeing written, please do not hesitate to ask either in the comments below or by PM or email at . I cannot guarantee that I will write every suggestion I get, but I will certainly take them all under consideration.
"So how's the incubus?" Seamus asked. They were in a grimy little pub in London—Muggle because Harry was getting tired of the press. Harry hadn't seen any of his mates in a few weeks, too busy with work and Blaise to get out to the pub, and he was just enjoying a chance to spend time with the lads.
Harry shrugged, mildly surprised Seamus even cared. "He's fine, why?"
"Things are still going... well?"
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't they be?"
"I don't know. You never tell us anything about him. I learn more about him in Witch Weekly than I do from you."
Harry glanced around the table and saw that his mates had all scooted closer, clearly as interested as Seamus in what Harry had to say. "All right, out with it. What do you want to know," he asked, spreading his hands out in invitation. This was probably a fantastically bad idea. He was fairly pissed, after all. Who knew what was going to come out of his mouth. He knew the lads wouldn't spill the beans to a reporter, though, so he didn't let himself worry about it. They all started asking questions on top of each other.
"What's he like in bed?" "Is it true he owns a sex club?" "Are you monogamous?" "Does he drink your blood?" "Is he still a twat?" The last came from Zach, who earned himself a sharp look from Harry.
"Does he drink my blood? You can't be serious," was his first response, accompanied by an eye roll. "He feeds from sexual energy, not bodily fluids. All he has to do is touch me, really." And he likes to eat my come, he thought, but didn't say. "We're monogamous. It's a struggle for him sometimes, I think, but he's faithful."
"And the sex club?" Dean re-asked.
Harry hesitated. "Er... of a sort? It's a Gentlemen's Club that happens to cater to men of a certain... persuasion."
"You don't really think you're leaving it at that, do you? Explain."
"Fine, but you're going to wish you hadn't pressed." Harry took a fortifying swig of his lager and explained. "It's for men who are part of the BDSM lifestyle. But it's not like going to one of those crazy sex clubs where you hook up randomly. Most of the members are in permanent or semi-permanent relationships." Harry glanced down and took another drink. "Not that I've been to a sex club before or anything."
His explanation appeared to throw them all for a loop. There was a momentary silence before Ron piped up. "Do you go with him?"
"Like, as his partner?" Seamus asked.
"No, I go as a complete stranger he's never seen before. Of course I go as his partner! What's wrong with you?"
"Isn't there usually like a... slave and a master type person in those relationships?"
"Submissive. There is a master and a submissive. The master is in control and takes care of the sub, and the sub obeys the master and does his best to make the master happy."
"And which one of those are you?"
A few months ago it would have hurt Harry's pride to admit it, but he was so satisfied with his relationship with Blaise now that he didn't mind them knowing. He was also six sheets to the wind and working on number seven. "I'm his submissive. But usually only when I go with him to the club. At home, we're fairly equal.""
"So you let him tie you up and... spank you and... f-fuck you?" Seamus hesitated over the last few words, as though he couldn't imagine letting anyone do that to him.
"Yes. To all those things and a few not on the list. I let him do whatever he wants to me." They all looked shocked at him. He dismissed their surprise with a hand wave. "But the thing is, he would never do something to me that I wouldn't enjoy. He's very strict about making sure I like everything we do. We talk about it sometimes, but mostly he can sense if I'm not into something, and then he stops and does something else. The whole thing is based on trusting your partner to take care of you. I trust him very much, and he hasn't done anything that would make me not trust him."
There was another silence, longer this time. Ron got up to get another round of drinks while the lads digested what Harry told them. When he came back, he asked, "So, do you have sex in front of strangers, then?"
Harry smiled, glassy eyed and very, very pissed by then. "I don't really think about it that way. I just sort of focus on Blaise and what we're doing, and the rest is just sort of... buzz..." He waved his hand off to the side in a dismissive move. Everyone else at the table just looked at each other, either too stunned or (in Zach's case) too disgusted to say anything. "Blaise calls it sub-space. I zone out of everything else and just focus on him. I get all floaty and happy. It's nice."
"What's your safe word?" Zach asked, a little mocking sneer on his lip as he took his next swig of beer. Harry was too sloshed to notice.
"Don't have one," he answered simply.
"Harry, that isn't safe. What if he goes too far and hurts you or does something you don't want?" Ron protested, looking horrified.
"It's Blaise. He would rather cut his own dick off than hurt me. I trust him to keep me safe more than I trust myself." There were more murmurings of disbelief, but Harry merely shook his head. "I get you're all trying to protect me, but you're missing the point. Blaise and I are mates, like soul mates mates. He wants to keep me safe and happy as much as I do, probably more. And besides, even if he wasn't so concerned about my happiness, he still wouldn't try to hurt me. He feeds off my energy, right? He says it tastes really horrid when the sex isn't consensual, like rotten eggs or something."
"And you believe him?" Zach asked, voice dripping with disdain.
"Yeah, I do. Any other questions, or can we change the subject finally?" Harry glared around the table, getting a little tired of the inquisition. The lads looked like they had more questions, but were hesitant to ask. Harry's glare turned vicious, and Dean immediately started talking about a new comic idea he'd come up with the week before.