InsaneJournal

The Point of Being an International Quidditch Player (Viktor/Harry, R)
Title: The Point of Being an International Quidditch Player
Pairing: Viktor/Harry
Rating: R
Word Count: 273
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.
Summary: Viktor realises something.
Notes: A teenyfic gift for florahart from celandineb, who requested Viktor/Harry, "regardless".

Harry's body is small, small like a girl's but so unlike a girl's in every other way that Viktor has trouble remembering what to do. They shouldn't be here like this regardless of his partner's gender, but Viktor's used to getting off with his prick in a female fan's mouth, leaning against the changing room wall. The others practically expect it. He's used to kicking girls out of his bed in the small hours of the morning so he can get a few hours' decent sleep.

But having a boy in his bed like this, all angles and need, is so different from the usual curves and want.

Their conversation after the match had been brief, and Harry had barely looked at him. This drove Viktor more wild than the most devoted fan-worship could possibly have done. Viktor shot out a hand, grabbing Harry's wrist as if it were the Snitch.

"Come vith me."

Harry had frowned, then nodded once. Viktor still doesn't know why, or why he'd suddenly desired this boy (no, man, he is a man now, not the boy he was during the Tournament) so badly.

When Harry comes, he doesn't shriek Viktor's name as if it were an award. He doesn't claw Viktor's back as if to mark his territory, to say I Was Here. He grunts and bites his lip and Viktor watches, fascinated, then is interrupted by his own orgasm, and their seed mingles on Harry's flat belly.

Viktor flops beside Harry, panting, and Harry lets out one breathy little curse word and fumbles for his specs.

This, Viktor realises, is what he's been seeking.