Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 7
- 8
- 9
VIII.
Breaking News

(Ten
Months Later, The Burrow)

They had their habits.
Now that Ginny was the only child they had left who hadn't yet moved
out and she was back at school, those habits seemed more pronounced
thanks to the lack of chaos.

Molly Weasley would
make tea and biscuits in the morning. The smell would wake her
husband, Arthur, who often came downstairs blearily wearing only one
slipper. He would retrieve the Daily Prophet from where it
always fell--into a bucket just outside the kitchen window--dust
something nonexistent off his sleeve, and sit at the table. He would
remove the Entertainment Section, which his wife had always been fond
of, and proceed to read the headlines while he ate breakfast without
looking at it. He would smirk when she made 'tut' noises at certain
celebrities who were always getting into trouble, and lower the paper
only when she exclaimed something to the fashion of 'honestly, and
she always seemed like such a sweet girl' of some celebrity she had
never laid eyes on in person.

Today, however, the
system changed. Molly suddenly threw down the paper in a huff. "Oh!
That Bill! I don't believe him!" she declared.

Arthur looked up to
find that she was reaching for a box on top of the cupboard where he
knew she kept her howler paper. Oh dear. Bill hadn't been deserving
of a Howler in ages. Either that or she'd simply given up on him
until now.

He craned his neck to
see the article she was reading and sure enough, there was a picture
of their son in the paper. He used his wand to summon it over as
Molly began scribbling furiously and his eyebrows lifted in surprise.
"Ah, so that's the reason."

Ten months ago, shortly
after Ron and Hermione's wedding, Bill had told his parents that he'd
accepted a transfer to Bulgaria. It had seemed a bit random, but
they figured it was better than charm-breaking, and he probably just
figured it was near his favorite brother. Apparently the story went
much deeper than that. Bill was standing there, grinning impishly at
the cameras with his arm draped around internationally acclaimed
Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. The caption read 'Viktor Krum (left)
with his British lover, William Weasley (right) after Bulgaria's
smashing victory over France yesterday evening.' The article went on
to talk about how, according to Bill, they were 'madly and
desperately in love', and that they had moved into a home on the
Danube River this past September. It didn't say very much at all
about Quidditch.

"He seems to be
doing well," Arthur said blandly. With Bill, nothing was a
surprise any longer.

"You can pretend
to be a little mad, Arthur. Honestly! When was he planning on
telling us? We're family! Oooh, he's always been like this!"
Molly ranted.

"Quite right,
Molly, I don't see why you expect that he would change now."

"Not expect,
really," she huffed. "But sincerely hope, at least."
She stuffed the letter into the mail slot and said, "well then,
off with you. Give that boy a good talking to for his mum."

***

(The
Riverbed, Bulgaria. One hour later.)

"Bill, stop that.
I am trying to cook," Viktor protested, turning his head away.

Bill, who was embracing
him from behind, let go of his earlobe with a little pop. "Who
cares about breakfast when there's a sexy man like you standing in
the kitchen in his underwear?" he protested playfully.

"You are
insatiable," Viktor complained, his cheeks coloring. It was all
for show and he knew it. He would last only through breakfast before
they spent another lazy Saturday curled up in a heap of blankets a
few feet from the fireplace making love. It had been this way ever
since they moved into the house, which they had named 'The Riverbed',
two months ago. Before then, it was usually a bundle of blankets on
the floor of Viktor's apartment, since the bed was not really big
enough for the both of them. Now they had a bed with room to spare,
but they still liked curling up together by the hearth. Viktor
couldn't find any complaint in the habit.

But as his mind
wandered, something red flitted past and landed in the butter dish.
He blinked. Bill grimaced when he saw the handwriting, but took a
deep breath and tore it open. It was best to get it over with
quickly:

'WILLIAM
ARTHUR WEASLEY, WHAT EXACTLY IS WRONG WITH YOU?! HERE WE'VE BEEN,
WORRIED SICK THAT YOU'RE DEVASTATED ABOUT YOUR DIVORCE AND WHAT HAVE
YOU BEEN UP TO? YOU'VE BEEN SNOGGING A FAMOUS QUIDDITCH PLAYER! AND
YOU'VE MOVED IN WITH HIM AND NOT ONE WORD TO YOUR WORRIED MORTHER
SINCE YOU LEFT FOR BULGARIA TEN MONTHS AGO! NOT ONE WORD! DO YOU
THINK I'M PSYCHIC?! I NEARLY FAILED DIVINATION AND YOU DAMN WELL KNOW
IT, BILL! --the whole subject's a complete waste of time if you ask
me-- OH, I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! AND YOUR BROTHER TOO, NOT TELLING
ME THAT YOU'VE UP AND FALLEN IN LOVE! HOW DO I HAVE TO FIND OUT THEN?
FROM THE PROPHET AND TEN MONTHS TOO LATE! WELL, I'VE MADE UP
MY MIND! THE HOLIDAYS WILL BE AT YOUR NEW HOME THIS YEAR AND YOU'LL
JUST HAVE TO FIND A WAY TO CRAM US ALL IN. IT SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR
NOT SAYING ANYTHING. --I'll help cook, of course, dear. And make
sure to send out proper invitations. You know Christmas is only a
month away."

The howler exploded,
leaving a little smoking singe mark behind. Bill blinked twice, then
laughed. "I guess I was so busy shagging you senseless I forgot
I didn't tell them..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his
neck.

"Bill, this is not
funny!" Viktor complained. "How are ve going to fit so
many people in this house?!"

Bill looked around the
cottage. He'd built it for two, but the living room was big, and
there were two guest rooms upstairs. "Packed in like sardines,
I suppose," he answered. "Maybe I should see if Dad still
has that tent we used when we all went to the Cup."

"If he does not, I
think ve vill have to buy one...or five."

"My family isn't
that big," Bill said.

"Perhaps not, but
if you think mine vill not be insulted if they are not
invited, you are delusional."

"Oh. Right. Well,
okay, it'll be a little crowded for a few days. But it'll be fun.
The more the merrier."

"Whoever made that
saying came from a very small family," Viktor replied. His own
family wasn't that big--though he seemed to be meeting new uncles he
didn't know existed almost constantly, but Bill's...he didn't think
he would ever get all of their names straight. When he issued this
concern, Bill had just laughed and said he'd given up on anything
past second cousins ages ago. He said that any relative he wasn't
sure about that he wanted to engage in conversation, he relied on
posture and positioning so they knew he was talking to them. So far,
no one had caught on.

Viktor sighed. "You
start making a list of people to invite," Viktor said. "And
I vill finish breakfast."

"Oh fine, fine,"
Bill complained with a grin. "So serious all the time, Vik,
honestly."

"Vell, one of us
needs to be," Viktor answered with a soft smile. "And
contrary to vhat you have brainvashed my father to believe, it is
certainly not you."

"Hey!" Bill
said, not able to keep the laugh from his voice. "I haven't
brainwashed him. I've just subtly led him to draw conclusions that
may not be one-hundred percent true. Are you mad that he likes me
more than he likes you?" Bill joked. It wasn't true, but you'd
never be able to tell from Mr. Krum's behavior.

"No, of course
not. Vhat vas he talking so seriously vith you about after dinner
last night?"

Bill
grinned. Ah, that's
what Viktor was all huffy about. He hated secrets unless he was the
one keeping them. "Maybe I don't want to tell you," he
teased.

"Then maybe I vill
make you sleep on the couch," Viktor huffed.

"Oh fine, you
bully. He was asking me when he could expect a wedding invitation.
I told him if he can convince the Bulgarian government to legalize
gay marriage, then he'll be the first name we put on the guest list."

"Bill!"

"What?
You don't want
to marry me?"

"That is not the
point! You should not--vhat is the saying? Egg him on? Yes, you
should not egg him on. He has been organizing all these...avareness
things...with the rainbow flags and such, ever since he found out
about us. I suppose in a vay it is nice that he finally supports one
of my choices, but enough is enough!"

Bill embraced Viktor
again. "This is about the swimsuit calendar, isn't it?"

"Of course it is!"
Viktor protested, turning rather red in the face. "You should
be upset, shouldn't you? You vant half of Bulgaria to see me vearing
barely anything at all?!"

"Sure, why not? It
's for a good cause," Bill answered. "Besides, no matter
how many people get to ogle you in a speedo, at the end of the day,
I'm still the one who gets to take it off."

Viktor
turned rather red, and cursed as the smell of burnt pancakes
permeated the room. He turned off the flame and pointed his wand
toward the window to air out the room. "You ruined breakfast,"
he complained. "Again."

"That's fine,"
Bill answered, turning Viktor around and planting an eager kiss on
his mouth. "I've always preferred brunch anyway."

Viktor
sighed and allowed himself to be led into the living room, melting
into the kisses Bill laid imploringly along his neck and shoulders.
As Bill pulled him down to the familiar pile of blankets by the fire,
Viktor thought, 'Well,
I guess I'm not that
hungry, anyway.'

Bill nibbled at his
throat, his ear, embraced him tightly, but playfully. "You know
how much I love you, right?" he murmured.

"I know,"
Viktor answered between impassioned kisses. "Fervidly."

Bill
grinned. It was hard to remember how he had felt before Viktor
sometimes--how everything had seemed so bland and colorless. Now,
even something as simple as breathing seemed so exciting, so very
worth
it. "Yeah,"
he answered. "Fervidly."
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tepid