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More	By : queenjane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8695 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters contained therein, and I am making no money from this story.

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“I need you,” Viktor whispered.
“Yes, god yes,” Oliver softly replied. He had wanted this so long, ever since the first time he saw Viktor step into the team showers, and finally all his awkward attempts at sending signals had paid off. He rolled his arse back against his friend as he gripped the counter, aching for just what Viktor demanded. A switch had been flipped, and all his stoic dedication to the team became shameless begging. “I want you inside me, Viktor,” he moaned, writhing against him as Viktor’s hand gripped his already-hard cock. Viktor was just as stiff against him, and good Merlin, it felt huge. “I want that big cock in my arse, in my mouth--”
Oliver was unceremoniously turned around, shoved down to his knees. “Your mouth,” Viktor growled. “First, your mouth.”
Oliver’s hands were already on the fastening to his trousers, ripping away at the button, yanking down the zipper. He clawed at Viktor’s boxers, hauling them down to get a taste of his cock. He took into his mouth like he was starving, taking the whole thing down in one plunge. He had to pull off to lick his lips, finding the Bulgarian’s cock too big to handle dry, and then attacked once more, sucking hungrily while Viktor thrusted into his mouth. Viktor’s hands were in his hair, gripping tightly to make fucking Oliver’s throat easier, murmuring constantly in Bulgarian all the while. The words were unintelligible to Oliver, but the tone was clear. Something in the growling and rough thrusting told him this was the filthiest language Viktor knew, all pouring out just for him. Oliver was nearly choking on Viktor’s cock, but he looked adoringly up at the other man anyway. He felt delightfully dirty and wicked, letting his friend and teammate use him so violently, and when Viktor’s burning gaze met his Oliver almost came in his pants without even being touched.
Viktor took a long look at him, allowing himself a moment to absorb the breathtaking sight before him. Oliver Wood was on his knees on the hard floor, grabbing onto his arse for balance, deep-throating his cock and looking up at him with a worshipful expression that even Viktor’s most vibrant fantasies couldn’t have produced. It was tempting to finish it just like that, to keep fucking Oliver’s mouth harder and faster until he slipped out and came all over that pretty face and watched the cum drip down his chin, marking the other man as his.
But there would be plenty of time for that later. He would claim Oliver in every way he knew how before long.
As quickly as he had been shoved to his knees, Oliver found himself pulled lower, gasping as Viktor withdrew from his mouth and pushed him flat on his back. A split second later, his trousers and pants were both ripped off, quickly followed by his shirt, and the kitchen’s tile floor was cold against his skin. Viktor pulled his own shirt off next, working quickly so he could get to what he wanted.
“Merlin, you’re hot,” Oliver moaned, gripping his own cock and stroking as he watched the ripple of Viktor’s muscles. The other man was kneeling between his invitingly spread legs,

bending down to tease his arse with his tongue. He looked like a dark god, and his tongue felt like spell just for pleasure.
Oliver’s hole was perfectly clean and hairless, leading Viktor to wonder just how much time his new lover spent taking care of himself, and how long he had been aching for a man to take him. A long time, judging by how eagerly he’d taken Viktor’s cock down his throat. Had Oliver known this would happen tonight? Had he come over in those jeans that so perfectly hugged his arse hoping that Viktor would accept the invitation? The idea of Oliver quietly plotting to be taken just made Viktor want him even more.
Viktor didn’t need a wand for the lubrication spell that would prepare Oliver’s arse for him; he had done this many, many times. Every town his Quidditch teams had visited held a new beautiful man who wanted his bum plowed by the legendary Viktor Krum, and he’d had them all. As his finger slid inside Oliver, though, he could tell that the other man had not been so free with himself.
“So tight,” Viktor whispered, working his finger slowly in and out. “Vill be very good for my cock. How many have had this arse?”
“One,” Oliver moaned, feeling near delirious with the pleasure of Viktor’s touch. “Only one.” Only that one drunken night in that Galway pub, when he had let the handsome young barman have him three times before he snuck home with the sunrise, feeling dirty and ashamed and delicious. He had been sore for days after the blond Irishman took his cherry, but it had been worth it. Just as this would be, he knew, groaning as another finger joined the first buried in his hole.
“Such a good boy,” Viktor chuckled softly, and rose up to kiss Oliver’s neck and slowly rub their cocks together. Well-behaved Quidditch stars were such a rarity; it was rather charming. So was the knowledge that he was special, that Oliver didn’t give himself to just anyone. Oliver didn’t only want to be fucked; he wanted Viktor to fuck him.
“You vill be good boy for me?” Viktor murmured teasingly. “You vere very good, sucking my cock. Vill also be good fucking?”
Oliver arched his back. “Let me show you,” he whispered. “Let me show you how good I can be.”
Viktor couldn’t turn down that kind of invitation. Slowly, carefully he entered Oliver, watching the rapture in his lover’s face as his arse was filled. His own must have mirrored it, Viktor thought; never in all the many fucks he’d had had he felt like this. The combination of Oliver’s impossibly tight arse and moans of aching need would pull him over the edge too soon if he wasn’t careful.
“You vant more?” Viktor whispered in his ear. He traced the outer shell of Oliver’s ear with his tongue, teasing. “You vant harder, faster, like vhen I fuck your mouth?”
“Yes!” Oliver whimpered, arching his back in an attempt to take VIktor’s cock still deeper. It was buried to the hilt, though; all that would get him what he wanted now was a solid pounding.
“Then you must beg me,” Viktor said. He smiled wickedly, reaching between them to slowly stroke Oliver’s cock. He would have the other man going mad for him before he gave in. “Beg for fucking, tell me vhat you are vanting.”
“Please!” Oliver cried out desperately, arching his back once more. Viktor’s cock inside him, the firm grip of Viktor’s fingers around his cock, they were all driving him insane with desire. He would give anything, say anything that would make Viktor give him the fucking he needed. The words poured out as he said anything he could think of that might tip the scales in his favor. “Please, fuck me! Give it to me hard, Viktor, so hard. Fucking break me with that big tool. I want you so deep, so hard...I wanna feel you for days, Viktor.”
For each plea, Viktor rewarded him with a single hard thrust, until soon he was hammering that sweet arse with all his strength. Over and over he slammed in and out of Oliver’s arse, making the other man moan and groan with pleasure until finally those moans were becoming screams. Oliver’s body was intoxicating, and his words and cries like a powerful spell that commanded him to keep going, to hold off on his own pleasure until Oliver’s exploded.
“Yes, VIktor, yes!” he called, rolling his hips to meet Viktor’s thrusts head on. “I’m so close, Vik, so close, just keep on fucking me. Keep giving me that fucking jackhammer in my arse. Oh, Merlin...Oh Merlin, Viktor, I...I...”
At last the cry was completely indecipherable, accompanied by the spurting and twitching of Oliver’s cock between them. Their chests and bellies were covered with come instantly, and soon Oliver’s arse would be filled with it as well. Viktor kept pounding through Oliver’s release, grunting as he felt his lover’s arse squeeze him even tighter with each thrust. He roared as he came, shuddering in Oliver’s arms.
For a moment he couldn’t even move, such was the power of that orgasm. “Such a very good boy,” Viktor murmured, and slowly kissed Oliver’s lips. “Such talent in your mouth, and perfect arse, and such pretty begging. You vill be very fine toy to play vith.”
Oliver felt his skin flush at the compliments, and gave Viktor a smile that was almost shy. Internally, shame washed over him. How could he be enjoying this? He had just thrown himself at his team captain and begged to be fucked right here on the kitchen floor, throwing aside all dignity and propriety just to get his arse filled. Now Viktor talked about playing with him like a toy, and he didn’t even balk at the notion. No, he loved the idea of continuing to be used, even as he thought intellectually that it was twisted and wrong. “Yes, Viktor,” he said, and he smiled as Viktor’s large hand squeezed his arse.
Oliver gasped as Viktor slowly pulled out of him, but instantly settled as he felt Viktor’s strong arms wrap loosely around him. The other man stroked his hair in a soft, comforting way that washed away Oliver’s moment of horror at himself and made him feel protected and loved. Viktor had been so brutal while he was fucking him, but now he was gentle and tender, kissing him like a cherished lover instead of a violent conqueror. “Ve should go to bed,” he murmured. “More comfortable there, da? You vill stay vith me tonight.”
Oliver didn’t think to question the order. Of course he would stay here tonight. Now that he knew what Viktor could give him, he would stay here every night that he could. Oliver was a large, strong man, one who was good and loyal and took care of his friends, but Viktor gave him what he had always truly wanted: to be utterly free from any responsibility as his body was used and pleasured. He wanted to be Viktor’s good boy - or maybe his naughty boy. He couldn’t help but wonder what Viktor would do to him if he’d been bad; he might love it even more than this.
“Will you take me again?” Oliver asked hopefully, one finger tracing slowly down the hard plane of Viktor’s chest.
Viktor chuckled and stood, reaching down to help Oliver to his feet. “Oh yes, my love,” he murmured, pulling him close to caress his pale, soft skin with the powerful muscle underneath. “Yes, certainly. How could I resist you? So beautiful, so eager...yes, I vill have you again tonight. I vill fuck you until tomorrow you cannot sit your broom.”
Oliver leaned against his lover, nuzzling his neck. “I’d like that,” he softly replied, and felt his cock twitch in anticipation. How on earth could he possibly thinking of next time already, when his knees were still shaking from the first round and his arse was still full of Viktor’s cum? But when Viktor spoke so sweetly to him, calling him his love, calling him beautiful, promising to use him over and over, he couldn’t help but want more. To find this perfect sexual compatibility in someone who was already a good friend was amazing. He never wanted this to end. He wanted every turn of his broom at practice tomorrow to give him a secret reminder of the night he’d spent begging to be used like a slut and then cradled like a precious lover.
Viktor kept him close as he guided Oliver up the stairs to the bedroom, their clothes forgotten on the kitchen floor. Oliver’s arm slipped around his waist for the short journey, up until they fell into the soft, comfortable bed together. There were more kisses now, sweet and intimate, unlike the earlier demanding meeting of their lips.
“You are mine now,” Viktor told him, his voice low as his fingers brushed over Oliver’s cheek. “Mine only, yes?”
There could be only one answer. “Only yours,” Oliver replied, because who else could give him this? He hesitated only a moment before asking the only other thing he needed to know. “...and you?”
“I am yours,” Viktor said, because the man in his arms was everything he wanted. Why would he look elsewhere, when he had Oliver? Oh, perhaps someday the two of them might like to have a bit of fun with some others - Oliver’s friend Roger was a beautiful man, for instance, and Viktor knew that Hermione would be only too happy to strap on her toys and enjoy Oliver’s perfectly rounded arse - but that would be later, when they were comfortable together and ready to expand their playground a bit. Oliver was as dedicated to exceptional Quidditch as he was, he was every inch the bold and cocky man out in the pub, and then he was every inch the submissive, insatiable whore when his clothes came off. What more could he want?
Oliver’s shoulders relaxed as the answer came, and he pressed a kiss to Viktor’s collarbone. He hadn’t been sure it would work both ways. It wouldn’t have stopped him from coming back, had Viktor said no. He would have come running back for more regardless. To know that all of Viktor’s attentions would be his, though, warmed Oliver through straight to the core. Despite his lack of experience, he must have done something right tonight.
Viktor’s fingertip traced the cleft of Oliver’s arse, just barely sliding between his cheeks to make him gasp lightly. “Still I cannot believe only one man has had you,” he marveled quietly. “You are so hungry for fucking, and I know many must have vanted you. You must at least have let more than one take your mouth.”
“A few,” Oliver admitted, eyes downcast as his cheeks turned pink with blush. Charlie Weasley had taught him to suck cock when he was in 4th year and Charlie in 7th, but had told him he was too young for proper fucking. He had wrapped his lips around Roger Davies’ cock a great many times, but they were both too interested in bottoming to top for each other. There had been that chef at Ginny and Harry’s wedding, too, the Italian-Englishman who had roughly fucked his mouth in the alley behind the venue, where he had really learned what he liked. He had wanted to ask the man for more, but his courage had failed him. Other men had hinted at wanting him, too, but they were almost all the young, lithe, pretty sort who saw a big strong Quidditch Keeper and wanted to be fucked themselves. Viktor was one of very few who saw through his physique to find what he wanted in his heart.
Oliver was growing hard again, and Viktor smiled as he felt it. “You should tell me more,” he said softly, his finger dipping lower to tease Oliver’s newly-loosened arsehole. “Tell me how you vere fucked only once, vhen you love fucking so much. I vant to hear about man who had you.”
Oliver took a shaky breath, rolling his hips to press his increasing hardness against Viktor’s belly. Viktor was getting hard, too, and if what Viktor wanted was a story, then Oliver would give it to him. He would give Viktor anything at all.
“I was...I was always shy,” he whispered. “About what I wanted. I was ashamed, because what I wanted felt so...so dirty, and wrong. I was only ever with men who would make the first move, who would tell me what they wanted and make me give it to them. The one who took my arse, he was...he was a barman, and he had sandy-blond hair and bright blue eyes, and he was wearing a tight black t-shirt, and he kept looking at me and every now and then giving me a sexy grin or a wink, like he was making sure I knew he wanted me. And so I stayed there all night, until the bar was closing, and he looked me dead in the eyes and said I ought to know that he was going to be the one doing the fucking tonight, and I was going to be on my knees.”
Viktor’s cock was hard as slate now, and his finger sliding past Oliver’s tightening ring of muscles. “Did you go home vith him?” he asked as his other hand wrapped around Oliver’s cock. “Or did you let him take you there at the bar?”
“Both,” Oliver moaned, images of that night rushing over him in a wave of passionate memory. “I got on my knees behind the bar and I sucked him, and then he bent me over the bar and pulled my trousers down and took my cherry. He just slapped some oil on his cock and shoved it in me; it hurt and it turned me on all at the same time.”
“And then he took you home?” Viktor asked, rubbing his cock against Oliver’s as he fingered him. The story was hot, easily getting him ready to take Oliver all over again.
“Eventually,” Oliver whispered. “He made me stay there on the bar with his cum dripping from my arse while he finished cleaning up. He told me what a pretty whore I was, and while he worked he kept telling me all the things he was going to do to me. He would stop to slap my arse sometimes, or to play with my balls a bit, and then he told me to stroke my cock for him so he could watch me get ready to go again, but that I had better not cum or he would have to punish me.”

“A man after my own heart,” Viktor chuckled. He would like swapping stories with this barman who had broken in his Oliver, he thought. “Then vhat?”
“Then he took me to his flat, and he sat in a chair and told me to lick my dirty arse off his cock,” Oliver said, groaning and pressing his cock harder into Viktor’s hand. “I licked his cock all over, base to tip, put his balls in my mouth, until finally he told me to get up and ride it. It took a moment to get my balance, but I did it. I spread my legs and I sat on his lap with his cock deep inside me - not as deep as you, but deep - and I started bouncing up and down on it while he wanked me.”
“Did he talk to you more, call you names again?” Viktor asked, his voice growing breathy.
“Yes,” Oliver admitted, straining as he recalled the pleasure and humiliation. “He called me a slut and a whore, a filthy slag, a randy little cocksucker. He told me he could see from the minute I walked in the bar that I needed my arse filled, that he couldn’t believe a whore like me was so tight...I came so fast, and he laughed at me for it. He pushed me down on the floor to take over and fuck me harder. He fucked me ‘til I cried.”
Viktor abruptly flipped them over, pushing Oliver down on his back once more, and buried his cock in Oliver’s arse with a single fast thrust. “Like this?” he growled as Oliver wordlessly cried out in surprise and ecstasy. Immediately, each stroke of his cock was hard and fast, with none of his previous teasing. “Did he fuck your virgin arse like this, good and hard, make you scream like slut?”
“Yes!” Oliver cried. “Yes, just like that! God, Viktor, please...please take me again. Take me, make me your whore.”
“Yes...” Viktor hissed. “My whore. My slut, mine only. No one else vill have you now - not your barman, not anyone, unless I choose to share your pretty body.”
“Yes!” Oliver screamed out loud, overcome with Viktor’s brutal claiming of his body. He shuddered as cum spurted from his cock, brought to tears by the violent force of his orgasm. It had happened so fast, the long build-up making his peak come quickly as soon as the pace picked up. Viktor took a tight grip on his hips, lifting them so he could fuck him rapidly all the way to the bottom. A deep growl started low in his chest and he suddenly pulled out, shooting his cum over Oliver’s chest and face.

Oliver didn’t seem to mind, licking his lips to taste the thick, salty substance. He had been marked, and he loved it. Maybe Viktor would give him a more permanent mark, he mused breathlessly, something that wouldn’t wash off in the shower. He would enjoy a nice bruise as a souvenir - though the way his arse would ache the next day would probably be enough. He just wanted something he could look at in the mirror come morning.
As if he knew, Viktor bit Oliver’s neck, then his shoulder. Not hard, not enough to leave marks...not until the sharp bite on his chest, anyway. That would leave a line of teeth-marks, Oliver knew, marks that would be absolutely unmistakable as anything but exactly what they were.
“Mine,” Viktor growled, and licked some of the cum from Oliver’s chest. Oliver let out a shuddering moan, making it very clear that yes, this was okay.
“Yours,” he sighed blissfully. His body ached, and he would have to explain the bite-mark in the team showers tomorrow, and he had never been happier. He wrapped his arms and legs around Viktor and kissed him, letting Viktor taste his own cum on his lips. “All yours. Any time, anywhere, anything you want.”
Oliver probably didn’t know what he was getting into, saying “anything,” but he would find out before long. The thought of all the wonderful ways in which he could test “anything” made Viktor smile and kiss Oliver once more. This was going to be a lot of fun.
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