wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2009-02-23 08:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, ginny, viktor |
Special Delivery For: ebb_11
Title: Slow Burn
Author/Artist: odds_are_evie
Recipient's LJ name: ebb_11
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Viktor Krum/Ginny Weasley
Word Count: ~2400
Warnings: rough sex
Summary: As life moves on around her, Ginny waits for her world to ignite.
Authors notes: ebb_11, this is a new pairing for me, but I loved writing them, and they slid perfectly into your prompts. I hope you enjoy! As always, thanks to my wonderful beta S.
He's not particularly attractive, he's not very sociable, and hell, he's not even looking her direction, but damned if Ginny isn't staring anyway.
It's something about the eyes, she thinks. There's a fire in them, and even though that fire is currently set to a low, brooding simmer, just enough to melt the foam off the top of his ale, Ginny has seen his eyes blaze. Just the memory of it is enough to keep her staring, despite the fact she knows she's gone beyond the point of polite interest.
He's still wearing his Quidditch robes, but so is everyone else, and not even his sweaty, wind-tousled hair should be cause for any interest, except… well, he's Viktor Krum, isn't he? And at twenty-one and a fellow Quidditch professional no less, Ginny should be long past the point of celebrity crushes.
But… Viktor bloody Krum!
As she rolls her Butterbeer bottle between her fingertips, Ginny can vividly remember her first glimpse of a very bloody but wholly unbowed Krum, entering the Minister's box after Bulgaria's shocking loss to Ireland. With all the awe and blind admiration of a star-struck thirteen year old, Ginny had stared – and to her eternal surprise, for one brief fleeting moment, Krum had stared back. It was no more than a glance, of course, and probably a result of random chance on Krum's behalf. But it was the moment Ginny first witnessed the fierce glow that seemed to be the core of Viktor Krum's passion.
Lost in her own thoughts, Ginny doesn't notice when the lines of memory cross into reality and Viktor's probably been staring back at her for several minutes before she realizes. She startles, glancing away far too late, and if that's not enough to claim her guilty, a healthy blush settles into her cheeks.
Oh, bollocks.
She wonders if she should look back up, send him a casual but defiant smile that will play the incident off as a silly misunderstanding, so he won't think… what? That her staring at him, practically drooling onto her robes, might possibly be taken as a sign of interest? She sighs, burying her face in her hands.
Good one, Gin.
"Weasley!" A familiar voice cuts short her self-reproach, and she looks up as Gwenog Jones stops in front of her, thankfully blocking her view of Viktor Krum. "Alright there? It's getting late; we should get back to the hotel for some sleep, or none of us will be any good for the game tomorrow."
Ginny smiles, trying to feign tiredness despite the livewire mess that is her mind. "Yeah, sounds good. I'm right behind you."
As her team captain strides off to round up the other Harpy players, Ginny stretches to her feet, pointedly ignoring the general direction of Viktor Krum. She tosses a few Sickles on the bar, brushes an odd wrinkle out of her dark green robes, and is resolutely heading for the door when her damned curiosity gets the best of her.
Furtively, she casts a glance back – and finds Viktor glaring grumpily at his pint, apparently oblivious to all the other patrons in the pub.
Ginny frowns and, telling herself firmly that she's not disappointed, shoves her way out the door.
*
She's brushing her teeth the next morning when Harry's customary pre-game Floo call comes. It's the only time he calls anymore, and she knows she should be thankful, busy as he must be with Auror training. But it's become as routine as changing into her Quidditch robes, with about the same level of excitement, and Ginny wonders if this is the relationship "rut" Hermione sometimes talks about.
"Hey, Gin. I miss you." Harry's head, nestled in a bed of emerald flames, smiles up at her.
Ginny spits in the sink before smiling perfunctorily back. "Hey, Harry. I miss you too. What time is it there?"
"A little past two in the morning, I think," he chuckles, and she can hear the weariness in his voice. "No matter. It's worth the lost sleep to see you."
She rolls her eyes affectionately. "You're a nutter, you know."
"Maybe. But you love me."
"Yes, yes," she laughs, and splashes a handful of water at him as she rinses out her mouth.
"So when are you coming home again? Next month sometime?"
Drying her hands on the front of her jeans, Ginny pauses hesitantly. "Actually… Gwenog's talking about extending the tour another month or so. She says she's been in touch with Italy's Ministry and they want to schedule exhibition matches, if we're interested." She pretends to fuss with her hair in the mirror, watching from the corner of her eye for Harry's disappointed look.
Instead she's startled by the relieved sigh that sends ash fluttering up from the hearth. "Oh, good," Harry says, "because Kingsley's talked about sending us out of the country for training exercises soon. I was afraid I wouldn't be around when you got back."
Ginny is suddenly annoyed, though she can't rightly explain why. "Well, it's all settled then, isn't it," she says, perhaps a bit to crisply.
"Gin… you're not mad, are you? I mean, you knew this might happen… That's why you went on the European tour, right? So you wouldn't be at home worrying while I was away…"
Because Merlin knows I've done enough of that in my life, she almost snaps back, but holds her tongue. She doesn't want to argue, and after all, he's right. "It's fine," she says instead. "Really. I'll tell Gwen that I'm in."
"Brilliant," Harry says, audibly relieved. "Well, if you're alright, I'll just be off. They've got us up before dawn for stealth training lately. It's a bloody nightmare."
Ginny smiles wearily. "I'm sure. Goodnight, Harry."
"Night, Gin. I love you."
"Love you too." She watches as Harry's head disappears in a curl of ash, and tries not to feel like she been left behind yet again.
*
"—Weasley, with another goal! The score moves to Vrasta 110, Holyhead 70. Ivanova now, with the Quaffle – wait, is that…? It's the Snitch! KRUM HAS THE SNITCH! VRASTA VULTURES WIN!"
A tidal wave of sound hits Ginny as she speeds across the pitch, hurrying to recover the Quaffle that suddenly doesn't matter, and with a disheartened sigh, she stops at mid-field. It's been a rubbish game anyway, and Ginny doesn't want to think about how awful her team played. Gwenog will have more than enough to say in the locker rooms, she's sure.
She drifts to the ground, taking with good nature the consolatory handshakes offered her by the passing Vrasta players. She manages to miss Krum completely, which isn't hard, as he's buried under a crowd of reporters and fans.
In the locker room, she sits through half an hour of Gwenog's yelling before she's allowed to take a shower. Her teammates hurry through, ready to get away from their angry captain and back to the pub, but Ginny doesn't bother. Between the loss and her 'talk' with Harry, her heart feels somewhere around the region of her kneecaps. The last thing she wants to do is spend another night watching Viktor Krum ignore everyone.
Outside the sun is almost gone, leaving a sharp wind in its wake. Ginny leans against the cold cement wall of the stadium and stares out into the surrounding forest that hides this wizards' haven. She is alone – a state that, she is all too sad to admit, is hauntingly familiar to her. She thinks about Harry away in England, with Ron at his side, like always. She thinks of Viktor, constantly surrounded by his legions of fans and admirers. She wonders if either of them has ever felt so utterly alone…
"You look so sad," an unmistakably accented voice cuts straight to Ginny's heart, and she sucks in a tiny gasp as Viktor Krum hovers over her.
"It happens, sometimes," she answers, with no real idea what she's saying. Viktor's eyes are meeting hers, blazing and intense, and all her rational thoughts are going up in flames.
He chuckles, a warm and throaty sound. "You are too… beautiful-" the word sounds like he swallowed it, but it speeds up Ginny's pulse nonetheless, "- to be so sad." He touches her shoulder, and all the cold leaves her. "You are Ginny, yes?"
"Mm-hmm." Her voice has apparently wandered off somewhere. Probably to keep her sanity company.
"I remember you, from Fleur's wedding. And you are Harry Potter's girlfriend as well?" he asks, his bushy eyebrows raising as he examines her face.
"No," she blurts, and instantly kicks herself. "I mean, yes. I mean… it's complicated." She bites her lip, her mind in utter chaos. She wants to run away and hide in the women's showers – He can't follow me there! she thinks madly – but Viktor's sturdy frame is firmly in her way, and something about the way her knees are trembling tells her she couldn't run even if she wanted to.
"I see," is all Viktor says.
"We, um, decided not to be exclusive, when he went in for Auror training," she murmurs, still not sure why she's telling him this. "He didn't want me to have to wait again." She laughs, surprised at her own bitterness. "And yet that's exactly what I'm doing."
He studies her, and Ginny wonders how it's possible for eyes so dark to burn so brightly. "What is it you are waiting for?"
For a minute, she is speechless, because no one has ever asked her this before. Her whole life, she's been waiting, and everyone she loves has simply accepted this. She waits, and they let her, telling her to hang in there, because she's 'doing the right thing.' But… for what?
Her voice tries to break as she forces out the words, "I'm waiting for… for someone to wait for me, just once. For someone to stay." She feels a tear spill down her cheek, and to her fascination, Viktor's warm thumb glides up to wipe it away.
"I have waited for you today," he says, stroking her face, "and I am still here."
It's all Ginny needs to break, and she's shoving Viktor against the wall, her fingers curling into his collar, holding him steady as she presses her lips to his. It's a hard, desperate kiss, and Ginny pours all herself into it. Viktor's mouth is hot and unyielding and his hands are strong as he lifts her off the ground, spinning her until her back is pressed against concrete.
She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs, relishing the low growl that escapes Viktor's throat. His hands knead her thighs, her back, her arse; his mouth explores the arch of her neck, biting down on that tender spot over her collarbone. With a hiss, Ginny's nails dig into his scalp.
A surprisingly warm hand slides under her sweater and moves straight to the swell of her breast, pinching down on the solid nub of her nipple until Ginny cries out, somewhere between pleasure and pain.
"I want you," Viktor growls, arching himself against her. The incredible hardness of his arousal digs into her hip, and Ginny squirms deliciously at the thought of that solid length inside her.
"Please," she manages through clenched teeth. As he fumbles at the clasp of his trousers, Ginny struggles with her own jeans, tugging them down her thighs and fighting to kick free her knickers from around her ankle. She frees herself just in time, and instantly Viktor is pressed against her, achingly hard and scorching hot. For a second they stand frozen, and Ginny waits for that moment of gentle probing, that almost-questioning slowness as her body is entered. But Viktor is not asking, and with one hard stroke, he's inside of her, pulling a gasping cry from Ginny's throat.
"God yes!" Her back arches as she's filled with searing heat, and it's so much more than she's ever imagined, so incredibly more than she thought herself capable of feeling.
There is no waiting with Viktor, and before her reeling mind can recover, he's moving inside of her, stroke after insistent stroke, and Ginny's gasping lungs can barely keep up.
"So good," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arse. "So fucking good, Ginny!"
Hearing her own name from Viktor's lips is like electricity, and she can only cry out in response as her body works to meet his frantic rhythm. Her skin tingles, every nerve in her body alight, and she can feel the first ripple of pleasure curling through her stomach.
"Don't… stop!" she gasps and rakes her nails down his back.
Viktor moans deeply and slams into her with a force that seems intent on ripping her apart, and she can feel him throbbing, desperately close to his release. But he waits for her, listening to the tiny cries and gasps as her mind turns itself inside out and her body races towards its inevitable end.
With one final, fierce thrust, Ginny comes, fists clenching and toes curling and absolutely everything else in the universe ceasing to exist for one long, shattering moment. Viktor shudders against her, his hands so tight on her hips she's sure she'll have bruises in the morning, but she doesn't care.
And for an eternity, or maybe just a second, they stay.
At last, Viktor slowly sets Ginny on the ground, holding onto her until she is steady on her feet. He drops to his knees, gathering her clothes and helping her step into them before carefully redoing his own trousers. And then he stares at her, and the light of a supernova gleams from beneath his heavy lids.
"Are you… alright?" he asks gently.
A wild smile curls across Ginny's mouth and she laughs. "Are you joking? I'm bloody brilliant!" His answering smile is spectacular, and Ginny can't help herself as she reaches up to touch his face. "So," she murmurs, "now what?"
One dark eyebrow lifts in amusement as Viktor says, "Now? I can bring you to my home, and if you like, you can stay."
Stay… The word echoes through her mind, and Ginny wonders if her heart can burst from sheer bliss. She reaches for his hand, twining her fingers through his. "Well," she says, "what are we waiting for?"