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Tepid	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd obviously have done it the way I wanted it the first time. That's what makes it FANfiction. And as it is a fanfic--written by the fans, for the fans--it is also obvious that it's not helping me pay any bills.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
VII.
Where the Heart Is

Viktor
didn't know how he was supposed to act as if this is how he normally
dressed at home. The slacks were so neatly pressed he was afraid to
ruin everything by sitting down, the shoes shined so brilliantly you
could check your reflection in them, the black tee fit so tightly he
could barely breathe, and no matter what Fleur said was fashionable,
he knew he would never see anyone in Bulgaria wearing a purple silk
collared shirt unless they were going clubbing. He felt ridiculous.
If he stood with his usual slouch he felt like the t-shirt's seams
would rip, so he was forced to stand at tight attention by the
window. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, then took them out,
then put one in only. No matter how he adjusted he didn't feel even
slightly comfortable. He managed to wash off most of the cologne
Fleur had spritzed him with, but he still thought he smelled like
some small animal that crawled into the food cupboard and died there.

The
bell rang and he moved stiffly towards the door. Through the peephole
he saw Bill standing there in a black dress shirt, half open, and
khakis. He was envious--Bill looked handsome and comfortable.
Of course, Viktor was convinced that Bill would look dashing in a
floral mumu. He swallowed a lump in his throat and opened the door,
trying--and failing--to look surprised.

Bill
pouted a bit at that and said, "Fleur got to you first, I see."

"...she
means vell," Viktor answered, stepping aside to let the red-head
in.

Bill
was temporarily distracted by the fact that Viktor looked incredible
in purple. He didn't seem to be all that comfortable though. Well,
half of that could probably be attribute to Bill's presence, he
supposed. "I guess I'll have to be graceful about her ruining
my surprise, all things considered. So, surprise."

"You..."
Viktor still didn't know what he was supposed to say. "You
alvays do just as you please, don't you?"

"If
there's one thing the war taught me, Vik, it's that life is way too
short not to go after what you want." He brushed his fingers
across the younger man's cheek. "It may be that this is my only
chance at love. So, yeah, I'm pretty much going to stalk you until
you agree to be mine."

"Vhat
about Egypt?" Viktor asked, tense.

Bill
pulled him into a firm, one-armed embrace and caressed his cheek.
"I've found something that excites me a lot more than risking my
life." Before Viktor could answer Bill tilted his head and
leaned in for a deep kiss. Viktor was sure that between the shirt
and Bill's soft lips stealing his breath away he was going to
suffocate. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest.

When
they parted, Bill said, "Where should we go?"

"Vhat?"

"You
know Bulgaria better than I do," Bill smirked. "What's a
good place for a date? Where do you want to go?"

Viktor
colored. "I...vell..." he sputtered. "There vill be
paparazzi if ve go out."

"So
what?" Bill answered. "Embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No,
it's not...of course not," Viktor flustered. "But... I
think my mother vould be very upset to find out her only son is gay
from the newspaper."

Bill
felt his heart leap into his throat. Viktor's family? Were they
there already? Hell, if they were, that was totally fine with him.
"Are you saying you want me to meet your parents?" he
teased.

"If
you do not vant to...I..."

"No
no, that's just fine by me."

"...they
have been vanting me to come for dinner," Viktor hedged. "You
are sure this is okay?"

He
knew there was always plenty of food at his parents' house, and he
was always welcome, with or without advanced warning. They were
definitely going to be surprised by this though.

"I
want to meet them too," Bill assured him. "They're the
people who created you. Besides," he postured. "It's
hardly fair. You already know my whole family."

"You
vill tell them about us soon too?" he asked.

Bill
figured they'd know long before he bothered to say anything. "Soon
enough," he said. "I figured I'd invite them to see the
house when I finish building it. Of course, you'll be there, since
it's your house too. I'll give them the tour. Show them the kitchen,
the living room, you know, and eventually I'll say 'and this is the
bedroom.' Of course, there will only be one bed, big enough for both
of us. There will be some shelves with all the little knick-knacks
I've picked up during my time in Egypt, and my visits to Charlie in
Romania, and somewhere you'll probably have your Quidditch gear
laying about. We won't have bothered making the bed, because I
always figured it was pointless to make something only to unmake it
again. And there will be pictures above the fireplace of all our
family and friends. Sounds nice, right?"

Viktor
rested his head against Bill's shoulder. It sounded better than
nice. "It sounds...homey." Yes, not a house, but a home. A
home for the two of them. Not a cluttered apartment, like the one
they were standing in, but an actual home.

Speaking
of homes, they reached the front door of his family's before he
realized it. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, lacing
his fingers with Bill's and pushing the door open. "Hello.
Mother. Father. Kalina. It is me..."

Viktor's
family home was more of a mansion than a house. Bill felt like he was
walking into a small castle, but he supposed that wasn't really a
surprise. A maid crossed in front of them and gasped. "Ah!
Master Viktor! What a surprise," she declared before her eyes
were drawn to where his hand was joined with Bill's. "I, oh,
I'll tell your parents you and your...friend...will be joining
them for dinner."

As
she hurried off, Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "...my
Bulgarian really needs work," he said. "I barely
made out any of that."

"Ve
vill vork on it," Viktor said. "Come this vay. They vill
be in the dining room."

As
they turned up the hall, a little girl of about ten years old came
darting out of a doorway to the left. Her hair was long and dark
and bound in a pair of braids that fell over her shoulders. "Oooh!
It's a man!" she declared, poking her head back into the
room. "Momma, Poppa! Viktor's special someone is a boy!
With lots of scars!"

"Kalina!"
Viktor protested, then sighed. "My sister," he explained
to Bill. "She is...a nuisance. I am hoping she vill eventually
grow out of it."

Bill
laughed. "I have six younger siblings. Trust me. I know what
you mean. I always found Percy especially annoying."

Viktor
smiled at him before swallowing down the hard lump of nervousness in
his throat. "Vell, here we go, then." He pulled Bill
gently into the dining room.

His
father was sitting at the head of a long table--stern looking with
salt and pepper hair. His mother seemed gentler, but only
slightly--too thin with a long neck and her hair tied into a tight
bun. Bill felt Viktor clutch his hand a bit tighter as if looking
for strength.

"Nice
of you to join us, Viktor," his father said after a pause. "Are
you going to introduce us to your friend?"

"Can
ve please speak English?" Viktor said. "His Bulgarian is
not yet very good." He took a deep breath at the tiny nod his
father gave. "This is Villiam Veasley. He is called 'Bill'
and...and he is precious to me. So...I vanted you to meet him."

"It's
a pleasure," Bill said. It was always awkward meeting the
parents. He hoped they weren't too taken aback. The silence was
palpable.

"So,
Bill," Viktor's mother said after a while. "Vhat do you do
for a living?"

"I
work for Gringotts," Bill answered smoothly. "Originally I
was charm-breaker, but I took a desk job back home during the war.
I just transferred to the branch in Sofia. I'll be starting there
next week, not sure exactly what they'll have me doing just yet."

The
woman nodded. Gringotts was a good job. That test was the easy one
to pass. And it also let on, without having to be asked, that he'd
moved to Bulgaria for Viktor--that meant he was serious about their
son. He was pretty sure, at least, that was enough to satisfy most
mothers. The father was harder to read.

"Your
family is in England?" the man asked seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oh,
mostly," Bill answered. "One of my brothers is right in
Romania doing work with dragons. I'm staying with him until I finish
building my house."

"You'll
build your house in Bulgaria?" the man asked, still not raising
his gaze from his plate.

"Yeah,
I bought a nice plot near the Danube, a bit outside of Pleven. I'm
planning to start work in March. If things go well I should be able
to finish by September."

"And
this home of yours. You intend to bring my son vith you?"

"That
was the plan, yeah," Bill answered. He wasn't sure if that was
what Viktor's father wanted to hear or not, but he wasn't going to
lie about it.

But
before anyone could ask more serious questions of him, the little
girl blurted out, "Hey, how'd you get all those scars?"

Inquisitive
little brat. Bill grinned. She reminded him of Ginny at that age.
"Oh, that's from the war," Bill said. "There was this
werewolf, Greyback. Blind-sided me. Well, I guess I was a bit
out-matched, but the first one," he pointed at a dark scar near
his temple, "was still a cheap shot."

"You
vere not out-matched," Viktor stated sternly. "You are
being too modest."

It
was cute how Viktor was defending him, but Bill just laughed it off.
"It's history, in any case," he said. "I hardly feel
them anymore."

Viktor's
father tensed. Bill knew why. The word 'werewolf' was always a
sensitive subject. Before the man could ask he continued as if it
was still just casual conversation, "The way I see it I got off
easy. I like my meat rare and my sense of smell is a little better
than I'd like sometimes, but that's about it."

"So,
you are not a verevolf then?" Viktor's mother asked. "Even
though you received such vounds?"

"He
wasn't transformed at the time," Bill answered casually. "I
got the whole complicated explanation right after it happened, but to
be honest, I think I may have fallen asleep half way through it,"
he answered casually. "The gist of it seems to be that since he
wasn't in his wolf form when we fought the side effects are pretty
minimal. Beyond that I guess I just never thought the details were
all that important."

Bill
was amazing, Viktor thought. No matter what awkward questions his
parents shot at him with their stern tones, he answered back casually
and honestly like he was completely comfortable. Next to him, Viktor
felt like a nervous wreck. What if they didn't like him? What if
they didn't approve of his answers or his laid back personality or
the fact that their son had fallen in love with a man? What if...?

But
the night seemed to go smoothly. Once all the awkward questions were
asked, his sister got curious about charm-breaking and he talked
about that for a bit, and it just ended up making him sound really
smart, because he knew about so many different hexes and curses and
how to counter them. Of course, Viktor knew he was smart--he'd been
Head Boy at Hogwarts, after all. He'd heard that somewhere, but
wasn't sure who'd mentioned it to him, not that that was important.
What was important was that by the time dessert was over, his parents
were slightly less tense than they tended to be.

"Kalina,
vhy don't you give Bill a tour of the house, Viktor and I have some
things to discuss," Mr. Krum said.

"Okay!"
Kalina, at least, seemed to rather like him. Her English was about
as good as Bill's Bulgarian, but between the two languages they
managed to understand one another well enough and it was only a
matter of time before Bill perfected Bulgarian, Viktor figured, just
like he perfected everything else.

Viktor
swallowed and watched as his sister pulled Bill along by the cuff of
his shirt, and his mother excused herself to 'help in the kitchen',
which he knew was just an excuse to leave Viktor and his father
alone. Viktor had always been intimidated by his father. Always. Now
that he knew they were going to talk about Bill he felt even more
worried.

"So,
you spend years chasing after anything that wears a skirt, and now
you expect us to believe you prefer men?" Mr. Krum stated.

"I
expect you to believe I prefer this man, at the very least,"
Viktor answered. He wasn't going to get into how a person could be
confused. How they could spend their entire lives ignoring what's
right in front of their face and then one day, just suddenly see it
plain as day. Explaining how a person can 'become gay' after having
slept with many women wasn't something he thought his father would
understand even if he explained it. It was, Viktor thought,
something like drawing blinds away from the window. The view on the
other side of the window has always been there, but until you move
the curtain aside, it might as well just be another piece of the
wall. Once you've drawn the curtain though, even when it's closed,
you'll always know what's on the other side. You can pull the blinds
closed, sure, but you can never un-see what you've seen. He thought
it must be like that for Bill too.

"This
man," Mr. Krum sighed a bit. "This charm-breaker. He
likes risks."

"He
does," Viktor answered, straightening his posture and saying
confindently, "he likes me more." It was one thing he was
absolutely certain of.

They
just stared at one another for a long time, wills battling. Viktor
didn't expect to win. He never did. His father spoke again. "He
is stubborn. He decides what he wants and goes for it. He makes
solid plans, and, even a stubborn old man like me can see the way he
looks at you." He clapped Viktor's shoulders. "As if you
are the sun around which all things revolve."

Viktor's
cheeks colored a bit, but his father continued. "This man is
very serious about you. I hate the way he dresses, like some
rockstar."

"Father..."
Viktor began to complain.

"Let
me finish. I hate the way he dresses, and his Bulgarian, when he
tries to speak it, is atrocious. He speaks too casually about dire
things, like the war. But," Mr. Krum smiled. It took years off
of his stern features, and Viktor tried to remember when the last
time he saw such an expression was. He couldn't remember one. "But,
he is a good man. Smart. Strong. Brave. I like him. He will be
good to you."

Viktor's
tension eased and his father pulled him into a manly embrace,
slapping his back a few times before releasing him. "But you.
Do not forget your family just because you are too busy being in
love. I expect to see you both here for dinner at least once a
month. I will not accept excuses. Your mother worries when she does
not see you for so long."

"Yes,
sir. I will visit more often. At least, when it is not Quidditch
season."

"Bah,"
the man said. "Always Quidditch with you. You have someone
precious now. When are you going to stop playing games and get a real
job?"

"Father,"
Viktor sighed. He was so tired of this conversation. "When I
am finished playing Quidditch, if things continue to go so well, I
will not need a 'real job' as you call it."

"My
son, the layabout," Mr. Krum griped. "At least this Bill of
yours has good, respectable work."

Viktor
opened his mouth to complain but a knock on the door interrupted him.
Kalina entered. "Are you finished scolding Viktor, papa? I have
shown Bill all of the good parts of the house. Mama shooed us out of
the kitchen."

Viktor
glanced between Bill and his father. "Go," Mr. Krum said.
"We will talk about it more at another time."

Viktor
looked a bit relieved at the interruption.

"So
how'd I do?" Bill asked as they left the house and began on
their way back to Viktor's apartment.

"Father
approves of you," Viktor answered. "I think far more than
he approves of me," he added irritably.

Bill
quirked a brow inquisitively.

"He
does not think Quidditch counts as a real job. He feels I am lazy."

"That's
ridiculous. You're amazing," Bill replied.

"He
thinks it is only a matter of time before I am injured to badly to
continue. He complains about how I will support myself then."

"Well,
obviously, you won't have to," Bill grinned, draping an arm over
Viktor's shoulders. "That's what you've got me for."

"I
am not interested in your money," Viktor replied sardonically.

"So
it's not my money," Bill grinned, "and it's definitely not
my face...ah! I know, it must be my body."

"Your
body is not bad," Viktor answered.

"Not
bad, he says!" Bill huffed.

"Not
bad," Viktor retorted with a smirk, "but it is your heart
that von me over."

Bill
snickered a bit. "Such a romantic."

"There
is nothing vrong with a little romance," Viktor huffed.

"Well,
Mr. Romance, why don't we go back to your place, light some
candles, and I'll give you another look at just how 'not bad' my body
is," Bill teased, pulling Viktor against his chest and pressing
a firm kiss to his mouth that he felt in his toes. Merlin, how he
adored this shy, sweet man!

Viktor
melted into the kiss and pulled back, blushing. "I...think I
vould like that," he replied. It seemed surreal--feeling like
this, someone else feeling like this about him. 'Well,'
Viktor thought. 'If life was predictable, it would be
boring, I suppose.' He wrapped
his arm around Bill's waist and curled slightly against his shoulder.
With the warmth spread between them, the January chill didn't really
stand a chance.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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