A Change of Feeling

Family Matters, part III

Harry woke up in a tangle of curls. They smelled wonderfully fresh, like the first day of spring. Smiling, he opened his eyes and saw Rabastan's sleeping face lying beside him. Unable to control himself, he traced the shapely cupid's bow of his upper lip with his index finger. It was surprising to see that the lip was so soft, with a little bit of roughness due to the presence of a mustache. With a soft chuckle, Harry had to admit that he never thought he would fall for the roughness that a mustache or beard could provide; the short, wiry hairs had felt wonderful on his jaw and on his neck.

Harry felt his cheeks warm and his penis stirs at the thought of last night's events. He looked down at the sleeping figure of Rabastan and could still imagine how passionately the man had looked at Harry and the wonderful sounds he had made. Rabastan's heavy, dark groan had sounded like music to Harry's ears, taking him to an even higher level. He'd lost control hearing that manly groan, he'd let his hands wander to places he'd only dreamed of until then.

And now the man was lying next to him, and Harry wanted nothing more than to wake him up. He wanted to wake him up with kisses scattered across his jawline, then wander down his neck. He would tease his ear, which Rabastan had reacted so wildly to earlier. And if he were very brave, he would run his hands on the slender lines of Rabastan's body. He would have teasingly dawdled above the waistband and let a finger slide down once. He would then wait for the hissing response, and only then would he continue to explore the dark curls of Rabastan's belly and groin.

Harry gasped. He felt his heartbeat in his throat. His stomach felt like he was in a Gringotts cart, heading for the deepest vault the bank had to offer. He felt young and inexperienced, but otherwise excited and driven to deepen this newly found passion.

Looking at Rabastan's innocent face, who had slightly pouted his lips in his sleep, Harry couldn't bear to wake the man. His whole body was screaming for attention, especially the sleeping man's attention. But Harry rebuked himself and let the man sleep. Rabastan had already looked so tired, a good night's sleep would do him good.

Very gently, he drew back the blanket and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. He lowered himself calmly onto the soft carpet and straightened up quietly. He tiptoed away from the bed on his way to the bathroom.

"Where do you think you are going?" came a sexy, hoarse voice from the bed.

Harry spun on his heel and turned to the bed, startled. There he was greeted by a sight that he knew was officially too young for. The sight was so sensual that he was sure it was illegal.

Rabastan had turned the blanket back just above his crotch. His chest was naked -Harry was sure the man was dressed the night before- and he lay with his arms folded under his head, giving him a good look at Harry. His chest was muscular, but not overly so. His muscles were defined and looked sweet enough to slide your tongue over. Dark, short hairs grew on his chest, giving him a dangerous appearance. It was only below his shallow navel that more hair grew, a kind of landing strip that pointed Harry in the right direction, towards his waist.

Harry slipped his tongue over his lips because they had suddenly become miraculously dry. His eyes slid over the lowest muscles of Rabastan's abdomen, which formed a seductive V shape. Harry swallowed an imaginary lump and drew a shuddering breath.

"Uhm, what do you mean?" Harry asked uncertainly, his thoughts still somewhere other than a conversation.

Rabastan's face was positively devilish, his dark eyes gleaming perniciously. He licked his lips slowly and sat up even more.

"I said where you are going. Because I can clearly see my man getting out of bed without saying goodbye to me. Without a kiss from those sensuous lips of his. Would you accept that from your man, Harry?"