|westernredcedar (westernredcedar) wrote in bonking_tonks,|
@ 2008-02-10 16:15:00
|Entry tags:||fic, viktor/tonks|
Fic: Sometimes You Get Nowhere (Tonks/Viktor, NC-17)
Title: Sometimes You Get Nowhere
Pairing: Tonks/Viktor, also past Tonks/Charlie
Excerpt: She had taken the job, away from the loneliness, the disasterous intimacies, the always thinking about damn men. Being trapped somewhere in the middle of Europe, at the mercy of Death Eaters and unsure of her fate wasn’t so bad, not compared to another month at Headquarters.
Word count: ~4,900
Prompt: “Sometimes you get so lonely, sometimes you get nowhere.”
A/N: My first ever het!! Beware! :) Thank you to blpaintchart for the brit-pick and beta. *hugs
Tonks was bored.
Circumstances being what they were, she should have been terrified, or nervous, or calculating her chances of escape should things go wrong. But no, Tonks was bored, tapping her heels on the cold stone of the floor, chewing her lip, and trying to stay awake by humming the entire Weird Sisters canon off-key.
She was not sure which country she was in any more. Her last contact had insisted on blindfolding her, and there had been a long wait, disillusioned and stuffed behind the seats of a Muggle car, at what might have been a border. The voices she had heard at a low murmur were indecipherable, but they were not speaking English or German. If they had left Germany…well…it did not really matter where she was if this ruse worked.
She stood up to pace. The room she was in was small and dingy, with only two wooden chairs, a wobbly table, and a mangy looking bed, there to convince passersby this was really an inn.
Stopping her circuit at the window, Tonks peered out into the darkness and wondered again if Shacklebolt and Neely had been able to follow her trace successfully. They could be outside right now, perhaps watching her, framed in the window. No, they wouldn’t be that close by, just near enough to keep tabs on her, and identify who she was meeting with.
Unless they had lost her trace.
Tonks mused that such a thought should make her shudder in fear, but instead the thought that she might be stuck in this sodding hole without backup made her giddy with anticipation. Perhaps she would have to fight. Maybe she was on her own. Any action would be better than this endless waiting. She resumed gnawing at her lip.
The Order was desperate to get another spy in deep cover with the Death Eaters. When Dumbledore suggested the mission, Tonks had jumped out of her chair to volunteer, citing her ability to change her appearance and her recent training in espionage at the Ministry. She was a good choice for the job, relatively unknown to the Death Eaters and willing to take risks, unattached and fearless. He accepted her offer immediately.
She was eager for action, but the mission had the added benefit of getting her away from 12 Grimmauld Place. She was going stir-crazy in the gloom-and-doom Order Headquarters, surrounded by complicated and untouchable men. Working every day with dead sexy and happily married Kingsley wasn’t bad enough. Oh no, Bill had to be around at all hours of the night and day, giving her tantalizing hugs that lasted exactly five seconds too long to be merely friendly, telling her how much he valued her friendship, brushing her hair out of her face, and all the while sharing intimate details about the new, perfect girlfriend.
To make matters worse, her cousin had been leering at her far too familiarly with his smoky eyes, and she had been reduced to bringing herself off, night after night, waking from filthy dreams of Sirius sneaking into her room, his illicit, sinewy body on her, in her. Then there were the jailbait boys and girls that had been coming around from Hogwarts since the summer. It was enough to make her cry. Hell, even queer, old Remus Lupin had started looking good these last few weeks, and that could only mean one thing. She needed to get out of the house. Or get laid. Or both. Shite, both would be preferable.
There was always Charlie, of course. Fucking Charlie. Who knew how to say all the right things, whose smile alone could make her come, who knew how to make every nerve in her body scream with pleasure. But Charlie was far away, and not thinking about her, and presumably fucking anyone and anything with a warm hole. She was not going to Charlie. Not anymore.
So she had taken the job, away from the loneliness, the disasterous intimacies, the always thinking about damn men. Being trapped somewhere in the middle of Europe, at the mercy of Death Eaters and unsure of her fate wasn’t so bad, not compared to another month at Headquarters.
It was just a tad boring.
The sound of a distant door banging shut pulled her to her feet. She faced the entrance to the room, adjusted her long black hair, pushing the strands behind her ears, and rubbed a tired hand over her morphed face. The few minor changes- a bump on her nose, a cleft in her chin, heavier eyebrows, a widow’s peak- were enough to fool anyone. It was quite simple really.
Outside the door, a heavily accented voice said, “Porto Corruptus,” and the door hinges gave way. A man pushed his way into the room and then shut the door behind him with a quick “Reparo.” It was quite an entrance. Tonks stared in silence for a moment at her newest contact.
His dark eyes focused their glare on her. “You are wanting to join the Dark Lord?”
“I am told you are wanting to find Karkaroff for him?”
Tonks eyed the athletic man before her. He radiated an uneasy energy, his shoulders pulled into a tense slouch, his hands gripped into fists. His skin was a deep olive, and looked smooth and soft, even at a distance, and those wide shoulders and heavy thighs… She had seen his image so many times, the real man was a bit of a shock. Viktor Krum was angry, and rather short, and…fucking sexy. Bugger.
A few weeks before, Snape had revealed that the great Viktor Krum had succumbed and taken the Dark Mark, but that he was still shaky in his loyalty to Voldemort. Krum was her target, her way in to the Death Eaters. After a miserable tour of the back alleys and slime pits of Europe, she had made contact at last.
“I know where Karkaroff is.” She didn’t, but this was the bait.
“You will tell the Dark Lord this?” asked Krum. He picked at his fingernails.
“Perhaps. That depends.”
“On what does it depend?”
Tonks let her words sink in. She had laid the trap carefully, finding the right path of low-level minions to lead her to Krum without alerting too many high ranking DEs. If she could force his loyalty, he could take her straight to Voldemort. Holding Karkaroff over him seemed the best way to ensure he would help her.
“You want Karkaroff safe. I want a meeting with the Dark Lord. You can get me there. I can keep my mouth, and my mind, shut.” Krum stared at her, expressionless. “Easy,” she added with a wink.
Krum’s nostrils flared. “Why would you not tell the Dark Lord your information about Karkaroff once we are there?”
“Because I am a woman of my word, Mr. Krum. Take me to him, and the location of your precious Professor remains a secret. Refuse, and who knows what other Death Eaters might be interested in my…information.”
Tonks could almost see Krum’s mind working over his choices. “Hardly a towering intellect,” Snape had told her during her debriefing, “but not an utter moron. Don’t underestimate him. He is stupidly loyal to Karkaroff.”
The pause gave Tonks another chance to appreciate Krum’s vivid physical presence. He was dressed as a Muggle, jeans and a blue t-shirt, which emphasized a number of interesting bulges and shapes beneath. Her imagination had him stripped down and pressed into the wall in a matter of moments. How could she make it happen? Silently cursing her rebel mind and body, she moved across the room to the window. “What is your decision?” she asked.
“I will take you to the Dark Lord.”
Tonks grinned and breathed deeply. “Good choice.”
“You will stay in this room until I have arranged the meeting,” said Krum. “Two days.”
“Two days from today? That is mental.” Tonks heard her voice go squeaky, but she did not care. Two more days alone in this empty room would drive her mad. “Sooner.”
“It is all I can promise,” said Krum, and his deep voice vibrated right through Tonks’ groin. He turned for the door.
He was leaving. Fucking leaving! Tonks threw all caution to the wind. Mission be damned, this man radiated sex, and he was here, alone, with her. Enough prancing around the issue.
“Wait. Don’t leave,” she called, as Viktor walked towards the door. “Shall we have a go?”
He stopped, and turned back, looking puzzled. “Sorry, I do not understand you. Say again.”
“Have a go.” What the hell am I saying? Tonks thought. She indicated the bed with a toss of her head. “You know. Bed. You and me. Man. Woman. A go.” She used a series of explicit hand gestures to make her point. Viktor’s face turned an alarming red.
“You wish to…?” Viktor was all innocence as he stared at the bed. “…with me?”
“Yeah. Have sex. I’m in the mood. What sort of a Death Eater are you anyway? Aren’t we all about evilness and debauchery?” asked Tonks, committing to it now, moving towards Viktor in the center of the room. “Isn’t that why you signed on?” She let her hand drag across Viktor’s lower back.
“No, I serve the Dark Lord to defend the honor of my mentor, Professor Igor Karkaroff,” said Viktor, his voice quiet and tense.
“I know, I know. That is all very noble.” She circled around him, allowing her hand to follow, dragging fingers along the hard muscles of his abdomen, right over the waistline of his trousers. She could feel him tense up under her touch. “He must be a great man to inspire such loyalty.”
“He is the most…” Viktor’s voice faltered as her fingers drifted lower and brushed over the growing bulge at his left hip. “What are you doing?”
“Initiating sex,” said Tonks, stroking him through his trousers. Viktor looked confused. “Trying to get you hard.”
“Yes. You. Ready. For sex with me.”
Viktor drew back, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “I have no…trust in you. Why do you want sex with me?”
Tonks moved in again, running he hands along the sides of his hips. “Why not?” He was so damn sexy and so damn clueless. She felt a rush of wetness between her legs. “Aren’t we both adults? I want you and you,” she traced his erection with her fingertips, “want me. We’re soulless Death Eaters, right?” Viktor backed away again, putting a wooden chair between them.
“You are not yet,” he said, “and I…” His voice drifted off and his eyes were downcast.
Tonks walked towards him, but tripped over the chair leg and stumbled. She caught herself and stopped, staring at the nervous man across from her.
“So, no sex then?” she asked. Viktor breathed in sharply.
“It is a dangerous time to begin an intimacy.”
“Mr. Krum, I’m not suggesting we fall in love. I am suggesting a good, hot shag, right now. No strings.”
Viktor was frozen, his face blazing red, and it occurred to Tonks that he was still quite young, only a year out of school, maybe nineteen or so. He looked older. She walked towards him, trying to watch her step.
“Haven’t you had sex before?” she asked.
“Yes, of course I have. Many, many times.” He was defensive now.
“Is this part of our agreement? To save Karkaroff?” Viktor’s expression was hard but also scared.
Tonks gave herself a mental slap. Of course he would think that. “No! Viktor, no. We already agreed about Karkaroff. I just want to have a quick fuck. I like you.”
Viktor’s shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. “Oh.” His mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “We may have sex now. I will accept.”
Tonks smirked. “Yes?”
She reached up and kissed him, wrapping her thin fingers in his dark hair. He leaned in hard and his thick, dark lips parted for hers too quickly. It was a sloppy, mushy kiss that made her want to wipe her mouth off with the back of her hand.
So. He was not very experienced. He was not a very good kisser. She imagined the Quidditch star shags he must have had, probably with fans who were more than happy to just be in his presence no matter what he was doing to them. He was not going to have a clue how to please her. Well shite. She was getting laid. He’d just have to learn quickly.
Coming face to face with the man (boy, really, but he certainly looked like a man), she latched her fingers in the waistband of his trousers and gave a tug. “This sort of thing must happen to you all the time, being a Quidditch star and a Death Eater.” She smiled, and leaned up to press her lips to his hot, muscular neck.
“Yes,” said Viktor, his voice husky. “It does. But I do not accept often.”
“Well, then. Lucky me. Do you want to get on the bed?” She let her hand linger on the hard bulge now straining against the fabric of his trousers. Oi, he was a big boy. Her cunt gave a hard twitch. Damn, she had needed to get laid for a fucking long time.
He paused, his deep-set eyes looking at her with a mixture of awe and longing. Finally, in a slow murmur, he replied, “The bed. Yes.”
He lunged at her then, his heavy, sturdy body pressing into her, slobbery kisses dampening her face, his thick, soft tongue lolling in her mouth. He lifted her and dropped her on the bed, lying heavily on top of her. In his defense, Tonks thought, he was attempting something between her legs, lifting her robes and pulling her knickers down, sort of grappling and grasping with his entire hand to no pleasurable effect. She tried not to think about what Charlie would be doing in this same situation (or Sirius, or Bill, or…shite).
“Wait, wait, wait. Stop. Stop Viktor!” Tonks shoved at the pressing, grunting body holding her down. Viktor stopped and rolled off of her to the side, eyes like an injured puppy.
“I did something wrong?” Shite, thought Tonks, he really has no idea. The sincere look in his eye gave her hope however. He did seem honest in his question.
“You aren’t very good at this,” she said.
Tonks raised her voice, as if that would help. “You are not very good at this!”
“No. Why don’t you let me show you?” Tonks grabbed his grappling hand from between her legs and sucked one thick, rough finger into her mouth. She pointed at the now slicked finger and met Viktor’s eyes. “This is all you need for now,” she said. She guided the finger down to the needy heat between her legs, and placed just his fingertip on her clit and moved it gently back and forth. Although the move was mechanical and deeply unromantic, her body instantly responded to being touched properly, and she let out a little moan.
“Just do that, right there. What you feel there is what you want to touch, and maybe later, lick. If you’d like to give that a go.” She smiled, and Viktor paled.
He had settled down, his breathing was slowing, and his hard cock was pressed firmly against her hip. Now that he had been instructed, his finger was doing something amazing to her body. This was a man who had perfect control of his body, she reminded herself, once he knew what to do with it. Damn. She writhed under his slow and steady touch.
“Is it right?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “It is just right.” She looked over at him, his face a picture of sincere effort. “I am going to kiss you now. Kiss me back the same way.” She fluttered her lips over his, and, to her delight, he was able to mimic her exactly. The light kisses fluttered down her spine. She dared to part her lips and run her tongue gently over his lips, and oh joy!, he did the same.
Her hands roamed over his back, arms, and arse, pulling up his shirt and revealing the hard definition of his muscles. He continued his patient work on her clit, his finger tracing little teasing circles that made her wriggle.
With one hand, Tonks pulled at the buttons of his jeans until they all popped open at once, and reached in to free Viktor’s cock. He let out a deep moan and rolled over onto his back to give her better access. His hand slipped away from her clit, but Tonks let that go for the moment. She was usually unable to have more than one climax during sex, and she wanted this one to count. She could wait.
She sat up and pulled off her robes and then worked Viktor’s jeans and pants down his thick, hairy legs. My god, his thighs! His cock was gorgeous, dark and hard and dense against his stomach. Tonks sat back to stare, warm wetness seeping down her legs, aching emptiness making her cunt throb.
“I imagine you will have done this part before,” she said before leaning down to run her tongue over his hipbones. She lifted his heavy cock in her small hand, gave him a wink, and then sucked the weeping head of his cock into her mouth. Viktor groaned and rolled his hips upwards.
“This I know,” he muttered.
I’ll bet, thought Tonks, imagining a line of salivating Quidditch fans waiting to kneel before their god and suck him down their throats.
She set up a steady rhythm with her hand and her mouth, amused at the matching pattern of grunts and moans that Viktor was producing.
“You. Are. Skilled.” Viktor groaned, pumping his hips upwards. “Fuck.”
Charlie has been a good teacher over the years, Tonks thought. She was good at this part. Too good. She pulled back. “Not so fast. Mr. Krum. What’s the rush?” She slowed her hand. He was breathing hard and his body was moving in little spasms as he tried to calm himself.
Viktor sat up. With Tonks still straddling him, he ground his face against her small breasts, nipping at her sensitive nipples. “Is this feeling nice?” he asked, peering up at her from between her breasts, tongue lapping.
She laughed. “Um, sort of. But I can think of something better to do with your tongue.” She pushed at his shoulders and he lay back down. She inched up along his broad, hairy chest until her knees were settled on either side of his shoulders, her cunt positioned over his face. With her fingers, she spread herself out and pointed to a few highlights. “Tongue, here. Fingers, here. And take your time.”
Viktor had paled again and was looking up at Tonks’s face. She gave him her best “what are you waiting for” expression, and leaned back to give his cock a firm tug. He grunted and let his tongue dart out for a tentative first taste.
“You’ve never done this before, I take it?” she asked.
He darted his tongue out again in answer, tickling her clit. She gasped and spread her legs, sinking down further onto his mouth. He must have decided at that moment to try, because she suddenly felt her entire sensitive mound swathed and surrounded in warmth, his tongue flicking over her clit, and two thick fingers sliding into her cunt.
“Like this?” he asked from beneath her, his mouth full of her. Trying to hold herself up while her body wanted to melt in pleasure, Tonks breathed, “Yes. Yes,” several times. Obviously encouraged, Viktor picked up the pace. His other hand circled behind and cupped her arse, daring to tickle at her crack. She collapsed down further, and his mouth opened to her, eating her out with tongue, teeth, lips. Tonks body was a mass of tingling sensations, and she writhed and rode Viktor’s mouth, her head banging against the wall behind the bed as she moved. A third finger slipped inside of her just as one finger from his other hand found her arse, and dared to press firmly.
That did it. After months of solitary wanking, Tonks let out an ecstatic scream as her orgasm spiraled out from her cunt and through her body to her fingertips, the pulses and waves coursing through her, tingling every nerve.
She pulled up from Viktor’s mouth, breathing hard, still trembling and twitching from her climax.
“Did you…?” he asked, his face a wet, sloppy mess.
“Fuck, yeah,” said Tonks, sitting back on his chest for a moment and wiping at his face with her hand. “Sorry, I got you a bit sticky.”
“So I can do it well?” His eyes were eager for approval, and Tonks suddenly felt like a perverted teacher with her debauched student. Well, I am, she thought.
“You are a quick study,” she said. “It is now your turn.” She slid back on his torso until her arse came to rest on his still rock-hard cock. She lifted her body, grabbed his cock, positioned it at her opening, and sank down onto him in one thrust.
Viktor closed his eyes, threw his head back, and said something, loud and clear in rapid Bulgarian, so Tonks could only guess at his meaning.
Pleased with reducing him to his native tongue, Tonks rose up and then plunged down again on him, impaling herself so that he was balls-deep inside her, the utter bliss of being filled with his thick hardness almost too much to take.
“I…I cannot…” said Viktor, and he sat up, wrapped his muscular arms around her, lifted her up and threw her down on her back. “I…I need…”
He started pounding into her, hard, long thrusts that felt like he was trying to crawl up inside of her. His arms were braced on either side of her like stone buttresses, his dark eyes unfocused, black hair straggling into his face, sweat starting to bead on his chest and forehead.
His pace quickened, and Tonks could sense his growing urgency, feel the huge cock inside of her thickening, threatening to split her open. Oh holy fuck, but she had needed this! She wanted him to pound, and thrust, and knock her head into the rotten headboard for fucking ever if he could. She wrapped her legs up around him and he lifted her entire body off the bed, still driving into her. Her body wanted it all, and harder, and faster, and longer, and…and…
“Fuck, yes, fuck, Charlie, fuck,” shouted Viktor.
He dropped his head onto her shoulder and stilled as he came, his body shuddering, her own body contracting in response, pulling at him, her fingernails scratching at his back and warm come already seeping out of her and dripping down her arse.
Tonks fell back back on the bed, and Viktor collapsed onto her, making it difficult to breathe. Her mind cleared. “What?” she panted, disturbed.
Viktor lifted his head. He looked adorably tousled, and startled. “What,” he responded.
“You just called me Charlie,” she said. “That is not my name. You don’t even know my name.” An odd nervous twist started roiling in her gut. Charlie is a common enough name, she thought.
“Did I?” said Viktor, and a tell-tale blush rose and colored his neck and cheeks. “Oh.”
Tonks raised herself on her elbows to look at Viktor. She was going to have to ask. “You wouldn’t mean Charlie Weasley, would you?”
Even if he had said no, it wouldn’t have mattered. The look on his face the moment she said Charlie’s name gave it all away. “Do you know Charlie?” he asked.
Holy fuck, thought Tonks. Yes, I’ve “known” him about 50 times since 5th year. “Yes. We were in school together.”
“Oh,” said Viktor with a sigh of relief. “He is my lover.”
Of course he was. Of course. Oh how Charlie would love Viktor, sloppy and young and physical and famous. Tonks squeezed her eyes shut and threw her hands over her head. “Shite and Bollocks! Can I never get a break from this?” she bellowed. Viktor rolled off of Tonks as she bolted to rise from the bed, grabbing her clothes and pulling them on. “Charlie? He’s mine too. My ‘lover.’ At least, he was.”
Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Tonks in disbelief. “He has no lover such as you. He tells me all of his past, and never of a black haired, lovely blackmailer.”
“We were together forever, alright? Need proof? He likes a finger in his arse. He has a snitch tattooed on his foot. He likes to bite. He enjoys walking around naked and hard, just to cause trouble. His cock goes left. Hell, Krum, he has MY initials tattooed on his inner thigh,” Tonks ranted, incredulous that Charlie fucking Weasley was going to ruin her first good shag in months.
“Your initials?” asked Viktor. “The N.T.?”
Tonks sighed in defeat and nodded. And then realized what she had done. She looked up at Viktor, who was staring at her, wide-eyed.
“You are Nymphadora Tonks!” he said, pointing a finger at her.
Tonks froze, her heart rate suddenly spiking. “No.”
“You are in the Dumbledore’s Order. You are a spy here.” Viktor, still naked, rose from the bed, staring at her.
“He has told me of you many times. You are able to change your appearance, yes, shape changer? Tonks is your name.” Viktor’s voice was rising as he put the pieces together. “You are a spy!”
“Charlie has no other tattoo of initials. You are Tonks!” The accusation in his dark eyes was piercing and hard.
“Maybe I am,” Tonks said in desperation, her breathing shallow, reaching for a way out. “But…maybe I’m here because we know you don’t really want to be a Death Eater.”
They both paused, glaring across the room at each other.
“Do you really know where Karkaroff is?” asked Viktor.
“No. Do you?”
“What do you really look like?” Viktor asked.
Tonks let herself have a moment to breathe and accept that she had blown the entire mission over fucking Charlie Weasley. With nothing left to lose, she let her morphed appearance settle back into her own comfortable snub nose, spiky pink hair, and heart-shaped face. Viktor frowned.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“You might want to put your clothes back on,” she replied.
“I could capture you and take you to the Dark Lord as my prisoner,” said Viktor.
“You could. Of course, he would kill me,” replied Tonks, holding her breath. Viktor nodded slowly, considering.
“I do not want that.”
“Or you could leave, I could leave, and we could simply call this a rather confusing memory,” suggested Tonks, cringing at the weeks of effort she had now wasted on this failed mission.
Viktor looked at the floor. “Will you tell Charlie what we did?”
“I won’t if you won’t,” said Tonks, and mentally added, but when I see him next, he will get kicked in the nuts without explanation.
Viktor’s dark eyes were shadowed as he thought, but then he nodded firmly, grabbed his clothes, and strode across the room to the door, pulling on his jeans as he went. “I will leave you now, and we will not speak of this again.”
Tonks gave him a small, pained smile and nodded as well. “Sorry about all of this.” She lowered her voice. “Viktor, if you need out, we can protect you in the Order. If you change your mind.”
He glared back, but nodded almost imperceptibly.
She drew a deep breath. “Do you love him?” she blurted, trying to keep her voice steady and her eyes hard and cold.
Viktor looked back at her and sighed. She recognized his look of defeat. She’d felt that herself, the day she realized that no matter what she felt, Charlie was always looking past her to the next willing cock or cunt. Poor Viktor.
“What do you think?” he said.
He turned, threw open the door, and strode away, not looking back. Tonks watched as his broad, gorgeous body disappeared into the darkness of the slummy hallway.
She collapsed onto the bed and ran her hands through her hair. The room smelled of sex, sweat, bodies. She was sticky and sore and burning with anger at herself. She was tempted to try a Turgeo to tidy herself up, but that was one of those cleaning spells she just could never quite master. Burning herself with a bungled charm would be the perfect capstone to this horrid day.
Bugger. She had been so close to completing the mission.
Retrieving her knickers from the mess of sheets on the bed, she glanced around the room once more. She had little fear that Viktor would change his mind and send Death Eaters after her here, but that vague possibility was the only reason she was able to drag herself to the door and onto the streets of god-knows-where-she-was.
Being captured, tortured, and murdered by Death Eaters sounded nasty, but only slightly worse than explaining the day’s events to Shacklebolt. Shite. Fucking Charlie Weasley.