Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A RUMOR OF PEACE	By : Acaciarose Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6495 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights over Harry Potter or Battlestar Galactica. I borrow them for my enjoyment only. I make no money or profit from these works.

Chapter List
- 86
- 87
- 88
A black leather gloved hand covered his mouth even as an arm wrapped around his waist, drawing him back against the hard, muscled body. Roark's hand flashed down toward his laser, only for it to be captured in a hard grip, the hand over his mouth moving to remove the laser from its holster to toss it away from them, landing in the corner of the couch.
"Now what will you do?" came the deep, deadly growl in his ear.
He didn't say anything. Just reacted. His foot lifted, kicking back at the exact same moment his head snapped back, striking him in places that were not the normal places such hits struck, namely mouth and knee.
Raphael had always told him in his practicals to not hold back, to do his best at all times. But he didn't want to hurt Rodolphus, any more than he had wanted to hurt Raphael. Of course, Raphael had laughed at him when he had told him that.
"The day you hurt me, Roark," he had said, "is the day I hang up my laser and my teaching classes."
Rodolphus' hold on him loosened infinitesimally, allowing him just enough space to twist free of him, his hand now holding one of the knives he had given to him that morning. Looking up at him, he saw the sherry-brown eyes taking on a sparkle at the new challenge his lover had just handed to him.
"Oh, that was good, babe. Just what else have you up that sleeve of yours that I don't know about, hum?" he asked, clear approval in his tone.
Roark grinned at him. "Would you care to find out, my darling?" came his dare, an impish grin now curving his lips.
Rodolphus could not help the chuckle that broke free. "Okay, love," he reached for and drew one of his own blades. "Let's see what you've got, Roark Peverell Potter."
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As soon as he entered the apartment, he secured the door, took the bag that contained the ingredients he needed for dinner on the kitchen counter, then headed for his bedroom to change out of his uniform, and shower.
Once he was dressed in comfortably warm sleep pants and a matching shirt, he grabbed his weapon's belt off the corner of the bed and headed back to the kitchen, stopping briefly to place his belt on the end table near the couch.
In the kitchen, he moved to the counter where the bag sat and began to pull things out of it. A package of cubed beef sirloin, peppers, mushrooms, carrots, onion, and several fresh herbs. Ordering the in-house computer to turn on the radio, he set to work making Rabastan's favorite stir-fry dish.
As one of his favorite songs began to play, he began to sing with it, seasoning, then putting the meat in a cast iron skillet to sear, before turning to begin cutting up the vegetables, tossing them into a separate skillet to cook along with the herbs.
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Something smelled wonderful, he thought as he silently entered the apartment. Moving through the living area to the kitchen on silent bare feet after having removed his boots.
Harry was at the range, moving something around in a pan, singing and dancing in place to the music. He saw, as he looked around, no sign of Harry's weapons belt, leaving himself with no apparent form of defense.
As Harry lay the spatula he was using aside, turning to go the refrigerating unit, Rabastan moved, He caught him just as he was opening the door, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other covering his mouth. Harry stiffened for only a micron {second}, then moved, slamming his head back to connect with his shoulder instead of his mouth, twisting himself sharply.
Once he was free of the tight hold he had had on him, he turned and ran for the arched doorway that led into the living area. Rabastan let loose a laugh, chasing after him to find his lover now standing beside the couch, a small throwing blade in his hand.
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises," he said in an amusement-rich voice, drawing one of his shurikens from his belt. "So, am I to assume you know how to use that?" A nod at the blade he held.
Harry arched a brow. "NEVER assume anything. Would you care to dance, Rabastan Lestrange?"
Laughter. "It would be my pleasure, Hadrian Peverell Potter."
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They were both sweaty, breathing hard, and, despite how careful they had been with their hits at one another, they both knew they would be sporting quite a few bruises and more than a few contusions because of this training bout.
That they had been fairly well-matched throughout the entire exercise, had surprised them both. It wasn't until Roark had miscalculated on a defensive maneuver and found himself on his back, the sharp blade of Rodolphus' knife at his throat
"Surrender," he growled at him, eyes dark with pride, and with a healthy dose of lust.
Roark stared up at him, silver eyes meeting the lust-darkened sherry...holding Then he moved. He tried something he had invented and tried only a few times during training sessions with Raphael. It had worked the first couple of times, but only because Raph hadn't been expecting the move, and the shocked surprise that had appeared in his blue eyes had Roark laughing.
Now, the move only saw Roark completely immobilized. "Would you like to try that again? Or do you have another move that you would like to try?" he asked, brow rising, his tone holding vast amounts of amusement.
Roark could only shake his head. "Surrender," he told him, his body relaxing beneath the one securing him to the carpeted floor, lifting his head to press a kiss to his jaw. "How did you know I was going to do that?" he asked as he was then released.
"Your eyes," came his answer as he got to his feet, then extended his hands to him. "You've been very good," he began as Roark slid his hands into his, "at keeping your thoughts, as well as your expressions well hidden from the moment we began this." He pulled him up, then into his arms. "But at the end there, for just a brief micron {second} your guard dropped. I saw exactly what you were intending to do."
"Hum..." he hummed with a nod. "One of the things I'm going to have to work on then," he said as he slipped his hands up his chest, then around his neck, pulling himself flush against him and lifting his head for a kiss, which Rodolphus was all too happy to give him "So...what would you like first? Food, or a shower?"
"As good as whatever it is you made smells, I think a shower would be a better idea right now, don't you?" he asked, releasing him to look around the room, which he hadn't done when he had first arrived. "We're awful hot and very sweaty. You had this planned, didn't you?" he asked him with some surprise.
"Um..." he breathed with a grin. "I have several things planned for us tonight," he told him, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall. "This little training bout was just the first step."
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He was trapped.
He tried to get himself free, only to give up and lay quiet, his hands held securely with transfigured strands of the carpet. Transfigured rug bindings had also wrapped around his ankles, slowly pulling his legs apart as Rabastan slid between them, smirking down at him.
"So...do you have anything else you would like to throw at me, darling?" came his husky question, his fingers slipping under Harry's sleep shirt, pushing it upward as they moved.
A dark brow rose over amused emerald eyes. "No fair using magic. This was supposed to be weapons only."
"Now who said that?" he asked. "Magic is a weapon to be used," he told him, leaning down to flick his tongue over one of his nipples, making it harden in reaction to the stimulation. "In a fight to survive, you use anything and everything that you have. This may not have been a fight for survival, but all the same...If you had thought to use magic, would you have?" he bent his head to his chest.
"Yes," he gasped, Rabastan's hot, wet mouth closing completely over the nipple. "Bas," he moaned as he felt his hands moving down...down to slip beneath his sleep pants. "Rabastan," he moaned as one hand wrapped around his cock, began to stroke. "Oh, GOD!" he gasped, arching as pleasure began to move through him.
Rabastan began to move down the center of Harry's chest, placing tiny, sucking, nibbling kisses, pushing at the sleep pants as he went. "OH, fuck!" he moaned as Rabastan's so hot, so wet mouth closed on him. "Gods...YES!" he gasped sharply as his hands, having been released from their binding went down to thread his fingers through the thick, dark hair, thinking suddenly that all he wanted was for his lover to be as naked as he nearly was.
Suddenly, Rabastan's clothing vanished, making him pull up off Harry's cock with a pop. "I do hope," he said with an amusement-laden voice, "you only banished them somewhere here in the apartment. I would REALLY hate to have to walk home naked."
Harry grinned up at him. "What a picture THAT would make," he said, sitting up now to slide his hands over the hair-covered surface of his chest, finding his nipples. "Your clothes are in the bedroom, so do stop worrying," he told him, a hand slipping slowly downward to wrap around the long, thick cock.
"Harry," he moaned as that hand began to stroke him, allowing himself to be pushed to lie on the rug, a grinning Harry coming down over him to take his lips in a deeply passionate kiss.
- 86
- 87
- 88
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A RUMOR OF PEACE