Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
The Power of Healing (Percy/Oliver/Viktor, R) 
15th August 2009 08:16
Author: Lee West
Title: The Power of Healing
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Viktor/Oliver/Percy
Kink Chosen: Menage a Trois
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Percy's newest case as a Healer is to treat Oliver and Viktor, who had a nasty fight during an international match.
Warnings: Use and abuse of not-so-innocent bystander.
Word Count: 1,646
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to my dear friend Minnow for betaing and getting me out of a very tight spot.



Percy walked into St. Mungo's, ready for another day as a Healer in the Sports Induced Maladies ward. Or as ready as he would ever be. It was not his dream job – after the war he'd decided to leave the Ministry and do something good for society. There was a huge demand for Healers, not only of the body, but also of the soul, and Percy thought that he would like to work with the latter. But, after having gone through the gruesome training, he found out that he'd have to pay his dues with regular, body-related injuries before he could get further training as a Psych Healer.

And, worst of all, he was assigned to the Sports Induced Maladies ward – and he didn't even like sports. Sometimes his patient was a Chaser or a Seeker hit by a rogue Bludger, but, more often than not, the injury was caused by a Quidditch match brawl: a few very soused fans punching each other silly. Percy hated hooligans, and he made sure they got the slow-curing spell. He wanted them to remember what they had done while they healed.

By the time he reached the ward, he was thinking that he should really look for another job. All the same, he started reading his assignment for the day, and frowned when he saw the names of the patients. Two very high-level names, actually. His own former roommate Oliver Wood, Keeper for the Puddlemere United, and Viktor Krum, the national Bulgarian team Seeker, the most recent – and very high-profile - hire for the Chudley Cannons.

He read on: apparently, the two men had engaged in a very unsportsmanlike fight during the latest Puddlemere vs Cannons match. The report didn't detail the cause of the fight, only that Oliver was sporting a black eye and a split lip, and Viktor –

Percy gulped: Viktor's injury was much worse than the black eye and split lip Oliver had sustained. If he was reading it right, Oliver had aimed his knee right where it would hurt the most. Percy's balls felt the pain, and he cringed. Talk about a low blow from Oliver! Whatever the reason for the fight, that was something a man did not do to another man.

***


Percy knocked and entered the room. Viktor and Oliver were lying on twin beds, both frowning. They had obviously been subject to a Restraining Charm, because they were completely immobile.

Oliver looked awful; his left eye was closed and his split lip was bloodied and twice its normal size. It was a pity, Percy thought: Oliver had really nice lips. More than once during their later years as roommates, Percy had wanted to kiss those lips. Unfortunately, most of the girls at school also wanted to, and Oliver always complied.

Percy turned his eyes to Viktor. His legs were bent, knees tenting the thin hospital sheet, protecting his balls from even the slightest touch. Although Oliver's face looked a mess, Percy was sure that Viktor's injury needed more urgent action. He lifted the restraining spell so he could examine them.

"Hello, Oliver." He waved. "Be with you in a second." He walked toward Viktor's bed. "Hello, Mr Krum, I'm Healer Weasley." He lifted the sheet and winced: Viktor's balls were very red and a bit swollen. Oliver had definitely taken good aim. He raised his eyes to Viktor's face and was surprised to see a smug grin, not directed at him, but at Oliver. Oliver was scowling a little more fiercely now.

Percy started touching Viktor's inner thigh carefully. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Viktor answered, in a strangely guttural voice. Percy looked at him again out of the corner of his eyes and saw him grinning mischievously at Oliver, who was now obviously livid. Maybe Oliver was annoyed that Percy was tending to Viktor before treating his former roommate?

He moved his fingers closer to the injury site. Viktor groaned, and Percy mumbled, "Sorry."

"No, it's all right. Carry on."

Strange words. But Percy had to carry on anyway, so he took Viktor's balls carefully in one hand and pointed his wand at them, to assess internal damage. He expected Viktor to feel pain, but he didn't expect an "Aaah." It wasn’t a sigh of pain, but of pleasure.

He lifted his eyes again. Viktor had thrown his head back, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes half-closed. Half-closed, but not completely: Percy could see that he was still watching Oliver. Oliver must also have been watching Viktor, because he suddenly jumped off his bed, shouting, "You bloody Bulgarian slut!"

Viktor sat up, in a brusque movement that belied the pain he was probably feeling. Percy was intrigued to see that he was, well, a bit hard. "This is the second time you call me a Bulgarian slut!"

"And that's a lie how? You're bloody Bulgarian and you're a bloody slut. You must be, or why are you letting someone fondle you again? "

"He's a Healer, you idiot!"

"And since when do people enjoy being examined by Healers?" Oliver looked pointedly at Viktor's cock, which was still in a state of semi-hardness. "You just love to have those balls fondled, don't you?"

"He vas not fondling me! Neither of them vas! He," he pointed at Percy, "vas examining me. And I vas giving Aiden a friendly hug because he'd just scored against you, Diffa."

"I'm not a diva," Oliver shouted louder, and Percy quickly cast a Privacy Charm in the room. "And you give Aidan a friendly hug and he cups your balls? Friend? Is that what they call it now?"

"And who's talking? Who French kissed Melinda Vadcock when she caught the Snitch? Trying to fool people into thinking you're straight, Oliffer?" He snorted. "But you von't be kissing any girl soon with those lips, pretty boy. And, by the vay, Aidan didn't cup my balls; his hand sort of slipped."

"That was not a French kiss! That was a friendly peck."

Now it was time for Viktor to shout. "Friendly peck? Only here in Britain."

Percy's was staring at the two men, his wand still aloft, though he wasn’t quite sure what his diagnosis would be. He couldn't believe his ears: this was not a sports brawl, this was a nasty fight between two...lovers? Ex-lovers, maybe?

Before Percy even registered what was happening, Viktor jumped out of his bed, grabbed him and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

It was a very good kiss. Despite being afraid that Oliver might take exception, Percy reciprocated eagerly. From what he'd seen of Viktor, he thought him very good-looking - and well-endowed, too. Definitely kissable. And fuckable. He complained mildly when Viktor broke the kiss, and had to make an effort not to pull the man back into his arms.

“So, Healer Visley, do you call that a ‘friendly peck’?”

Still swooning a little bit, and now trying hard to hide his own erection, Percy shook his head. Viktor looked victoriously at Oliver. "See? That’s what you did to Melinda.” He made the name sound like an insult.

Oliver obviously refused to accept defeat. He pushed Viktor away, lifted Percy's robes and grabbed Percy's now very hard cock and balls. "Percy, is this a 'slip of my hand,' or am I fondling your balls?"

Percy couldn't answer, so he shook his head again, at the ‘slip of my hand’ part Oliver was definitely fondling his balls, and it felt very, very good. He thrust his hips forward, into Oliver's hand. Oliver looked at him with surprise, but then grinned lopsidedly and started stroking Percy's hard cock. He turned to Viktor, his anger apparently forgotten. "Viktor, it's been a long time since we had a nice sandwich, right?"

Viktor, who had been scowling at the action between Percy and Oliver, grinned, too, at Oliver's words. "Yes, a long time." He stood up, naked, and approached Percy. "And Healer Visley seems interested, doesn't he?"

Was he hearing it right? Those two men, who had seemed ready to kill each other just a few minutes ago over some groping on the Quidditch pitch, were proposing a threesome? Percy shivered a little when he realized that he would probably be the meat in the sandwich. Well, wasn’t the filling always the best bit?

"He certainly does," Oliver answered, his mouth very close to Percy's. "Too bad I can't kiss him, because of my split lip," he said coyly.

"Or that I can't fuck him because of my injured balls," Viktor added, coming behind Percy and cupping his buttocks.

"I can heal you both," Percy exclaimed, somehow managing to point his wand at Oliver's lips and then turned around to aim a slightly stronger spell at Viktor as quickly as he could. "There! You're both cured," he squealed, before Oliver turned him around again and kissed him full on the mouth.

Percy had enough presence of mind to lock the door before he heard the whispered spell from Viktor that coated him with an oily substance. Oliver was kneeling in front of him, and had already started sucking Percy's cock before Viktor entered Percy smoothly.

Percy's last coherent thought was that he was glad he'd cast that Privacy Charm in the room. Thank goodness the men hadn’t been taken to a ward.

***


The three of them left the room together. Percy wrote up the release form while Oliver and Viktor made up on the bed, and then he shooed them away. They could go on in their own place.

At the entrance, they thanked him profusely and told him they'd send him tickets to the next Chudley vs Puddlemere match. Percy promised them he would be there. Merlin only knew, they could get into another fight, and they might need his Healer services again.

He really hoped they would.
Comments 
25th August 2009 10:46
:)

Thank you, darling.

*smooches*
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