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Delicate Boy	By : Lidane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 24736 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Title: Delicate Boy (Chapter 2)
Author: Lidane
Rating: most definitely NC-17 *evil grin*
Pairings: Harry/Tom, Harry/Lucius, Harry/Severus, Harry/Tom/Lucius/Severus
Warnings: Slash, language, kink, mild bondage, mild BDSM, cross-dressing
Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish they were mine. Sadly, they are not. Neither is the money.

Summary: Harry has a secret�he's been going out to a Dark wizarding club dressed as a girl and seeing the Dark Lord and two Death Eaters, none of them knowing about the others, or about Harry's true gender. What happens when they compare notes one night and find out the truth?
A/N: OK. So I lied. This fic is going to be three parts instead of two. *grin* I could have made things really, really bad for Harry, considering just who he was deceiving, but my muses are in a good mood, so they decided that things would just get really, really kinky instead. What can I say? They love smut, and so do I. Heh. Much thanks to Serenity for the constant feedback�you always seem to understand my work instinctively, and to Brigantia for her ideas and encouragement in chat, and for introducing me to Placebo's music. Who knew that slash was a Religion, Brig? I might just make it to the seventh circle with you yet. ;)

~~*~~

"You're such a delicate boy
In the hysterical realm
Of an emotional landslide, in physical terms
You hold a candle in your heart
You shine the light on hidden parts
You make the whole world wanna dance
You bought yourself a second chance�"�Garbage, "Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go!)"

~~*~~

Blinking owlishly, Harry read the note once more.

In a careful, elegant script, the letter asked him to come upstairs to a bedchamber that had serpentine handles on the door and to knock three times, and it asked him to be there in ten minutes.

Steffan had come out from behind the bar for a moment and had handed the parchment to him, telling him that one of the waitresses handed it to him, saying that a wealthy man, who had given her a massive tip, had asked for Harry to get this message.

Thanking his friend, the Gryffindor considered his options.

He could ignore the note, and leave the bar entirely, going home, but that would be bad. What if the person who sent this got angry? He'd have a hard time coming back here in his various guises to see his fantasy men, and that was the last thing he wanted. And he wouldn't be able to come in as himself anymore, lest they try and attack him.

He could also go, and risk being hurt or killed, but he was a much stronger wizard now than he was in school. Even though he had bypassed becoming an Auror, opting to settle on a career only after the war ended, he had still gone through both basic and advanced training with the Ministry, and he was confident in his abilities to survive.

Deciding that he was intrigued by the invitation, Harry gathered his wits about him, took a deep breath and made his way up the stairs to where the bedchambers were located.

He made his way up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet below his feet, and came to a crossroads in the hall. Going to the right, he walked all the way to the end of the corridor and then he saw them�a set of double doors with intricate, detailed snakes, twisted into the symbol for infinity and swallowing their own tails, for door handles.

He knocked three times, as instructed, mindful of his wand, shrunken and hidden in his belt buckle. Should anything go wrong, he'd be able to arm himself quickly and defend himself from attack.

When the door opened, a small tremor at his temple clued him in to at least one of the room's occupants.

Voldemort.

Oh shit.

Hoping against hope that he would be able to make it out alive, Harry screwed up his resolve and walked across the threshold.

~~*~~

Taking in the sight of the room he was in, Harry looked around. Thick, plush carpet in the deepest, darkest shade of black was under his feet, almost to his ankles. Candles floated along the ceiling, illuminating the area. A massive ebony wood bed took pride of place in the center of the room, covered in deep green silk sheets, with silver ornamental decorations on the bed.

Slytherin colors, he noted.

Paintings and sculptures were tactfully placed around the room, and Harry dimly noted that all of them were either nearly pornographic in content, or nudes of both genders. Along the wall, he saw a glass case that, to his shock, held not only basic bondage equipment, like restraints, blindfolds, and handcuffs, but also cat-o-nine-tails whips, riding crops and the centerpiece of the collection�a jet black leather bullwhip. Another cabinet showed oils and lubricants in various scents, feathers, and body powders.

Off to the side, there was a small table set up, and Harry noted the platter of fresh strawberries and the opened bottle of champagne with one glass available. A note to the side told him to help himself, and after casting a discreet, wandless charm checking for poisons or drugs, the Gryffindor did just that, pouring the bubbly gold liquid into the extravagant flute left for him and taking a plump berry and dropping it into the glass.

Picking up the flute by the stem and walking around, Harry noted that there was no one here. It was quiet.

Almost too quiet.

Finishing his drink and eating the berry, Harry decided that while the invite had been nice, he wasn't going to stand around waiting to die, or waiting for the punchline. He turned and walked towards the front door, stopping for a moment to turn and look back at the decadent room he was about to leave. As he took a step backwards to leave, he felt himself come into contact with a firm, warm body, and found his balance maintained by a grip at his waist that felt vaguely familiar. The voice that broke the silence startled him out of his confusion.

"Hello, Harry."

It was Severus Snape.

Oh gods. Holy fuck.

Snape had sent for him? He was a dead man.

Turning to face his former professor, he looked up into those dark onyx eyes, transfixed by what he saw. Dressed, as always, in black from head to toe, Snape cut an intimidating figure. His midnight hair, almost as long as Lucius', was pulled into a loose ponytail, and the leather encasing his legs was just begging to be touched. He observed the man's face, trying to read his emotions. There was no outward anger, but in his experiences as Sage, he knew that despite the cool exterior, nothing about Severus was so simple. He was a far more dangerous man than people realized, even those who trusted him.

A slender, pale hand reached out and cupped the younger wizard's cheek, and the older man tilted the Gryffindor's chin up and leaned in until their lips were almost touching. That silky voice spoke once more. "How are you this evening, Harry�or should I call you Sage?"

Chills ran up the green eyed man's spine. Oh fuck. This couldn't possibly be good. Snape knew. He knew that Harry was Sage. Fuck! He was so doomed.

Walking forward, pushing Harry to walk backwards, Severus had an almost predatory glint in his eyes. They moved until once again, his back came into contact with a solid, warm body. Strong arms came and wrapped themselves around his waist from behind, and soft lips grazed his neck, a silken tongue tracing a wet trail up to the shell of his ear, and his earlobe was lightly nipped. The hot breath of the presence behind him invaded his mind as the aristocratic tones alerted him to who was holding him.

"Beautiful as always, Harry. Even if you're not dressed as Willow tonight," purred Lucius Malfoy. "You look good in blue, but I'd much rather see you in dark greens. They bring out your eyes," slurred the Death Eater as his hands ran up Harry's thighs, pulling him closer to the blonde, who was already hard, and who ground his erection into the cleft of the younger wizard's arse.

Closing his eyes, and stifling a moan, the pit in stomach of the Boy Who Lived got worse. Lucius knew as well. Fuck!

Could it get any worse?

"Open your eyes, Harry," commanded a new voice from in front of him. Blinking, he looked up. Snape had stepped aside, and another was in front of him.

Tom Riddle.

Still caught in Lucius' grip, one arm tightly around his waist, the other hand lightly rubbing circles at his hip, all Harry could do was look into the deep emerald gaze of Lord Voldemort. A slight smile played on his archrival's lips, and the Dark Lord cupped the Gryffindor's face and leaned in, capturing the younger man's lips with his own in a deep, searing kiss.

Despite himself, the familiarity of Tom's taste was too much for Harry, and he found himself returning the kiss enthusiastically, giving in to the green eyed Slytherin's coaxing tongue. The smooth tenor of Voldemort's voice spoke again as they came apart. "Sweet, sweet Harry�as delicious as ever, even if you don't have Kelly's red hair this evening."

The implication of that statement hit the younger man like a ton of bricks. They all knew. His eyes closed again, and he stiffened in Lucius' arms.

He was a dead man for sure.

Harry's mind immediately sprang into overdrive, trying to think of how in the fuck he was going to get out of this, but realized the chances of survival were slim at best. He might be able to catch Snape, and possibly even Malfoy off guard on his own, but not with the two men together, or Voldemort there.

He was doomed.

Ah well, he mused wryly to himself. It's been a good life, and at least I spent it at the end enjoying myself.

What happened after that shocked him.

Tom Riddle laughed. A sincere, heartfelt laugh. Opening his eyes and looking at the man quizzically, Harry arched an eyebrow in a silent question.

"My dear, sweet boy�despite what your reactions, and no doubt your mind, are telling you, we're not going to kill you. If we were, you would have died as soon as you had entered the room," he smirked. "You would never have seen any of us."

What? They were going to let him live? Harry wasn't so sure that that was a good thing, but he wisely kept that thought to himself.

Although, he admitted honestly, Voldemort had a point. They *would* have killed him outright if they were angry with him for what he had done. But he knew these men, at least to a degree. Each one was highly possessive of things and people they considered theirs. None of them would cede control so easily.

But what did this all mean? What would they do?

Tom leaned in again, his lips grazing against Harry's as he spoke, light kisses peppering his words. "No, my dear, we're not going to kill you. But you *have* been a very bad boy, tricking us like that. I believe some punishment at our hands is in order," he teased, and once more, the Gryffindor found himself on the receiving end of another hot kiss.

The word surged through his consciousness. Punishment. With these men, that could mean anything.

Swallowing nervously, he looked deep into the intense gaze of Voldemort, wondering what fate had in store for him now.

"Just one question before we start, my lovely boy. The level of deception required for what you pulled off isn't a Gryffindor trait. How did you manage this?" asked Tom curiously. "And I'll know if you're lying, so choose your words carefully."

Finally finding his voice, the Boy Who Lived looked into the eyes of the Dark Lord and said, "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I didn't want to go there, so I asked to go anywhere else. It put me in Gryffindor."

The hand that had been lightly caressing his hip stopped, and he found himself turned to face Lucius Malfoy. "I knew there was something not quite right when you tricked me into setting Dobby free," he murmured. "Very ingenious. And only a Slytherin would have conceived your plot. Tell me, how long did you watch us to find out not only our patterns, but also what we favored in a lover? You clearly had to monitor us for a time in order to create the perfect candidates for each of us."

Looking at the blonde Death Eater, Harry replied, "Almost two months. I came here with some friends, because I knew it would be the last place anyone would expect to find me. I knew this was a Dark club, and that I was taking a chance, but I liked it here. I could just relax and enjoy myself. It took a while to work up the courage to try approaching you, but doing it as a woman made it simpler. I had no idea it would lead to where it has," he admitted. The three older men shared a bemused glance and looked back at the young wizard.

Chuckling, Snape finally spoke again. "Two months? You should have listened to the Hat, Harry. Clearly, you're a Slytherin at heart. Which of course, will make this evening's activities that much more fun," he leered. "We can have fun, and our way."

"What�what are you going to do?" wondered Harry, a trace of nervousness showing through in his voice.

"Oh, don't worry, dear heart," crooned Lucius. "We're not going to rape you or hex you, if that's what you're afraid of. No, my delicious one, we're simply going to share you this once. After tonight, we would like to keep the pretenses that you have already created, maintaining the affairs with Kelly, Sage and Willow. But tonight, we decided we all wanted you. And we *always* get what we want," he whispered into Harry's ear.

Shuddering and stifling a light moan at the feel of Lucius' proximity to him, Harry looked into the steel gray eyes of the Death Eater and asked, "Share? Share how?"

Tracing Harry's jawline with his fingers, the aristocrat smiled softly. "We're each going to have you, and you'll perform for us, but it won't be anything you don't want, love. Believe me. By the time we've finished with you, you'll be screaming with pleasure and more than sated," whispered the Death Eater. "Give yourself over to us for the night, Harry. I can promise you, you will enjoy it."

Looking at the three men who encircled him, Harry considered the situation. He already knew that escape was pointless, and from what they had said, they simply wanted to share him, not hurt him or kill him.

He was terrified by the prospect of what would happen, but a small voice in his head reminded him that he had wanted something like this all along. It had been one of his more recent fantasies upon returning home from his nights with them, and here it was, in his hands. Harry conceded the point to that irritating voice. He could have what he wanted, and so could they, and afterwards, they would go back to the way things were before, only this time, it was open, with them all being aware.

No more lies. No more deceptions needed. No more fear of dying by their hands if he was discovered, because they already knew.

All that was required was his submission, for one night, to their will.

Admittedly, the prospect was a dangerous one�but also a delicious, very dirty, and very kinky one. And with the war probably starting up again in the next few months, why shouldn't he enjoy himself while he could?

Decision made, he looked Tom directly in the eye and nodded. "Yes. I'll do it."

Lascivious grin crossing his handsome features, Voldemort looked at Harry and hissed at him in Parseltongue. /Good boy. You'll enjoy this, I promise you,/ he whispered in the ethereal language.

Harry shivered slightly and replied softly, /I hope so,/ a small smile, full of promise, on his lips.

~~*~~

Turning back to the man who was currently holding him, Harry gazed up into eyes of quicksilver, and waited for the blonde to make the first move. It wasn't long in coming.

Bending slightly, Lucius leaned in and took Harry in a lush, deep kiss, both men envisioning the familiar scene of Willow and the Death Eater together, the ease to which they took to each other catching the two men off kilter. Feeling the other wizard's erection against his hip, Harry found himself getting aroused, and he ran his hands through the long, platinum strands that framed the aristocrat's face, bringing his body closer, flush with Lucius'.

An arrogant smirk crossed the man's face, and his hand slid down between the two of them, tracing the seam of Harry's slacks, traveling the length of his arousal, causing the younger man to groan lightly and throw his head back.

"Oh my�" he purred as he continued fondling the Gryffindor. "This is new. I definitely don't remember Willow with one of these," he grinned seductively. "Where have you been hiding it?"

Biting back a groan and fixing his emerald gaze on the man in front of him, Harry managed to ground out a response. "M..magicked lingerie. It gives the illusion of being a woman, and hides anything that would give the wearer away, like arousal. An obvious erection would have broken the characters. I couldn't have that."

Lucius tightened his grip on Harry's erection and squeezed, causing the younger man to dig his fingers into the blonde's shoulders and a soft moan escaped his lips. Cradling him from behind, Tom murmured, "Merlin, but you're responsive. I'm going to enjoy fucking you senseless," he slurred, grinding himself against the lad. Another light moan, and Harry brought a hand behind him and gripped the Dark Lord's hip tightly to steady himself.

"As will we all, my Lord, but still, the whelp has tricked us," smirked Severus. "We still have to account for that," he whispered, running a hand through the green eyed man's hair. "Of course, Severus," acquiesced Tom. "He has been naughty. I believe it is up to you to decide his fate."

A soft, but firm grip on his shoulder, and Harry found himself pulled easily from Lucius, who backed off without comment, and soon, the Boy Who Lived was in the arms of his Potions master, Severus Snape. "So not only are you a gorgeous, tempting morsel, but you had enough presence of mind to be thorough enough in the act to cover all your tracks. Very Slytherin, Harry. And also very, very sordid. Which of course only reinforces the fact that you need to be punished for your actions," he whispered, taking the young man into a kiss of his own, their twin arousals coming into contact as well as Harry reached back and undid the leather strap holding Snape's hair in place.

Pushing Harry back towards the bed, the Gryffindor found himself, when they broke apart, looking into intense onyx eyes that seemed to cut right through him. The man he was staring at wasn't the Potions professor he'd hated and feared in school, or the head of Slytherin, who had unfairly taken hundreds of points over the years. No, the man he was gazing at was someone else entirely.

He was Sage's master, and he was demanding control right then.

"It is time, Harry, for you to learn that deception has a price," he said in that silky, deep voice of his. Swallowing nervously and wondering what was next, the Boy Who Lived kept silent, not wanting to risk the wrath of the man before him.

Walking to the cabinet against the wall that had the restraints and whips, Severus found what he was looking for and went back to where he had left the Gryffindor, and noted with satisfaction that the boy had opted to stand still, waiting to see what would come. Smart boy, he thought to himself. He remembers how Sage acts, and what is expected of him.

Riding crop firmly in hand, Snape advanced on Harry, who swallowed once more and waited to see what would happen.

"Strip off everything you're wearing, except for your slacks. Watch, belt, shoes, socks and shirt�in that order. Place them in that chair in the corner," he motioned. When Harry hesitated briefly before moving, he was rewarded with a swift smack from the crop on his hip, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain. "When I give you an order, I expect obedience," seethed Severus. "Do you understand me?" A silent nod was his only answer, but that wasn't good enough for the Death Eater.

The crop came down once more. "I expect an answer, Harry. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," was the quiet response.

"Yes, what?" asked Snape.

"Yes, sir�" he started to say, but he was whipped once more. "Try that again, Harry. You're a bright boy. You know the correct answer," drawled the Potions master.

"Yes�Master," replied the Gryffindor, and all three Slytherin found shivers going up their spines at the words coming from Harry.

"Now, strip as I had commanded you earlier," repeated Severus.

Walking to the chair he was to leave his things at, Harry said, "Yes, Master," once more and began to remove his clothing. His watch and belt were first, left neatly on one of the arms, his shoes left below the chair, and his socks folded neatly on top of them. When he went to remove his shirt, the dark eyed man's voice broke the silence. "Wait. Turn and face us first, then remove your shirt."

A final affirmative to Severus and Harry turned, facing the three men he had deceived. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled it from his slacks and let it slide from his shoulders, revealing his smooth, olive toned skin to the Dark trio. Although Tom, Severus and Lucius had seen their individual lovers in various states of undress before, depending on how risqu� the tops were that they wore, none of them had seen Harry like this, and they could barely keep in sharp intakes of breath. He was beautiful.

Clear, unblemished skin with an even skin tone greeted the three men, and as they raked their eyes over him, it was obvious that Harry took pride in his appearance. He was lithe and athletic, and while it had been years since he'd played Quidditch, he went flying occasionally to keep in shape, and his physical training with the Aurors had given him a muscle structure and form that was without an ounce of fat. Harry was clearly a man, but his body was feminine enough to be able to carry on with his cross dressing convincingly, as it had just a hint of androgyny to it.

Holding a hand out, Severus finally found his voice again and in a commanding tone said, "Come here, Harry," and after the young wizard agreed once more, he took the Gryffindor by the hand. "On your knees, boy," he said sternly, and Harry complied, kneeling without question in front of Snape.

Putting the tip of the riding crop under the lad's chin, Severus turned Harry's face upwards and gazed down into those ethereal green eyes. His smooth baritone broke the tension in the room. "Now, how do you think we should go about punishing you, dear one? Any suggestions?"

"N-no, Master. I haven't given it any thought," admitted the green eyed wizard.

"And why not?" asked the Potions master.

"Because I thought it was for you to decide, Master, not me," he replied easily.

Severus considered that for a moment. The boy had a point. Finally settling on a course of action, he looked back down at the Gryffindor. "Very well. A performance is in order, then. And how well you do will determine what happens next, my sweet boy, so I'd advise you to take great care."

"Yes, I think a performance is a splendid idea, Severus," commented Tom. "Seeing this beautiful boy in action would definitely be worth it," he smirked. "What would you have him do first?"

"How about having him pleasure you, my Lord?" wondered Snape. "I would think it would be the least he could do for tricking you," he teased.

Lustful gleam in his eye, and Lucius agreed readily. "Surely, that would be a good test of the lad's talents on his own, my Lord, and it would be deserved on your part," grinned the aristocrat.

Looking back at Harry, Severus agreed. A swift blow from the crop across the Gryffindor's hip and he commanded softly, "Crawl over to the Dark Lord on your hands and knees, and suck him off, Harry. What happens after that depends on your performance, boy, so keep that in mind," he reminded. After acknowledging the order, Harry complied readily, and he soon found himself kneeling in front of Tom Riddle, unbuckling the man's belt with a steady, careful hand, and unzipping the trousers that Voldemort was wearing.

Reaching in with a soft grip, he took the green eyed Slytherin's erection in hand, tracing the length softly with his fingers and looking up at his archrival, meeting his gaze steadily. In a surprisingly gentle move, Tom lightly caressed the younger wizard's cheek just as Harry leaned forward and took the older man into his mouth. Groaning lightly, Tom threw his head back and ran his hand through the untamed black mass that was Harry's hair, steadying the young man into a constant rhythm.

Gazing intently at the boy who was currently setting his brain on fire, Tom began to speak to him, using the lilting sound of Parseltongue to get his attention. /My gods, boy�you've got quite a mouth on you,/ he hissed. /Exquisite indeed. You've done well as Kelly, but here, you're so much more./ The voice swirled in his mind, and Harry groaned around the hardness in his mouth, increasing the pressure slightly. The fluid sounds of the snake language invaded his consciousness again, as Voldemort reached out to him. /Ah�as good as you are, my delicious boy, I'm feeling generous, and I don't want to climax just yet./ This got Harry's attention, and he looked up at the Dark Lord. /Go to Lucius, my sweet. I can see that he wants you as badly as both myself and Severus./

Silently asking Voldemort if he was sure, and being rewarded with a nod, Harry backed away from the Dark Lord and crawled over to the blonde aristocrat nearby, kneeling expectantly in front of the man. A surprised look crossed Lucius' face until Tom spoke up. "I told him to go to you, my friend," explained the raven haired Slytherin patiently. "He's waiting for you to react."

Amazed and incredibly aroused at the sight of the Boy Who Lived on his knees in front of him, the blonde Death Eater reverently traced Harry's brow with his hand, pushing his hair back. "Your scar is missing," he whispered. "Why? You're not out in the club anymore. You're here with us, and we know who you are." Emerald locked with steel and the younger wizard responded, "I keep it hidden with a glamourie. Do you want me to remove it?" he asked. The Slytherin nodded and after summoning his belt to him and pulling his wand, Harry spoke the incantation and once again, his lightning bolt scar was prominent on his features.

"Beautiful�" murmured Lucius as his finger lightly traveled the length of the scar. The Gryffindor trembled at the touch, and the aristocrat pulled back a bit. "Does that hurt you?" Shaking his head, the younger wizard replied, "No. It's just that no one has ever touched it before. Stared at it, yes. Touched it, or kissed it, no. It just startled me, that's all."

Stroking the lad's hair once more, Lucius asked Harry, "What do you want, dear heart?"

The answer was almost instant. "To please you. To make you happy, but as Harry now, instead of as Willow."

"And how do you want to do that, love?" wondered the blonde.

"By giving you pleasure, if you will let me," sighed Harry. Nodding silently, the blonde allowed the green eyed man to unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, reaching in and taking his arousal in hand. A glazed, needy look passed between the two men and the former Seeker leaned forward, tracing the crown with his tongue, taking the length down his throat. Lucius hissed at the first contact of that slick, wet heat, and he lightly cupped the back of the Gryffindor's head, setting the pace for them.

Desire quickly grew among the four men in the room as Harry worked on Lucius, and soon, the Death Eater found himself panting and stopping the lad before things went too far. Looking at the boy on his knees, the blonde licked his lips and breathed, "Come up here, cariad*." Standing, Harry stared deeply into the silver eyes before him, the taste of the Dark wizard's precum still on his lips, and he waited to see what Lucius would do next.

Tilting the lad's chin up to his, the fair Slythierin leaned in and kissed Harry soundly, tasting himself on the boy's tongue and pulling him flush with his body. It was Tom's voice that caught their attention and made the pair turn to the Dark Lord.

"I have an idea of how our sweet, delicate boy can repay us all at once," purred Voldemort.

Intrigued, the other three men in the room looked at the green eyed Slytherin and waited. "I think," said Tom, "that the two of you should share him in bed," he explained, motioning between Severus and Lucius, "then I will have him for myself." Walking over, he gave Harry a brief, hungry kiss and crossed the room.

Groaning, the three other men then moved, Severus reaching out and guiding Harry back to the bed, ordering him to lie down. Lucius moved to one side of Harry, and Snape stayed on the other, with Tom Riddle pouring himself a glass of champagne and sitting back on the couch, taking the scene in.

As the pair of Death Eaters moved to strip themselves and the Boy Who Lived of all their remaining clothing, Severus leaned in and traced the shell of his ear with his tongue, eliciting a small moan from the Gryffindor. That silken voice then proceeded to vaporize all conscious thought once again.

"Just lay back and enjoy it, Harry," slurred the brunette. "Tonight promises to be a night you'll never forget."

~~*~~

*= "cariad" is a Welsh word. It's the strongest endearment for "love" that exists in the language. The person you feel full blown, head over heels love for would be your cariad. It can also mean darling, or sweetheart, or lover. You decide what context Lucius is using it in. ;)

~~TBC~~
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Delicate Boy