Marauders - Always - Part One

CCCX: Viktor's Closet

Viktor Krum was walking back across the grounds of Hogwarts, feet crunching in new fallen snow, the book on magical horses tucked under his arm.

He and Hermyown had spent nearly four hours in the back corner of the library, tucked between shelves, as she read a book for one of her classes and Viktor read the book on horses. He had even gotten up the courage to point out a few words in the English that he did not recognize to get the definition, and Hermyown had not judged him, but simply explained the meaning before turning back to her own text. She'd even shown him her book and asked if he'd ever studied ancient runes, which he had, and he'd helped her sort out the subtle differences between a few runes that were terribly close with deeply different meanings.

After, he had stopped by the Great Hall and taken a small stack of sandwiches before heading back to his room on the Durmstrang ship, deciding he wished to spend the evening there, rather than trek back inside at dinner. He didn't want to force small talk witht the other Durmstrang boys, not to mention the Slytherins. He fancied himself with his feet up on the ship, relaxing, having a nap and perhaps listening to a bit of music while the rest of the ships occupants were off to dinner. Precious seconds completely alone on board the otherwise empty ship sounded marvelous.

And indeed, later on Viktor watched the crowd of Durmstrang students ambling across the grounds to the Castle from his porthole window, and breathed a sigh of relief. He let the curtain drop back over the port hole and went to weed through the stack of classical music records he had in his collection, searching for a particular symphony which had long been one of his favorites. He had dropped the needle and just begun to let himself think of dancing along to the melody when there came an urgent knock on his door.

He flushed and smoothed his shirt, squaring his shoulders and opened the door, certain he would find his father on the other side of the door, but instead --

Aleksander was kissing Viktor before he had even fully comprehended it was him at the door. The boy had launched himself forward at Viktor, his hands gripping onto Viktor's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing into one another. Aleksander tasted of cider and mead, of warmth and smelled of amber and spices. Viktor's heart double beat as Aleksander's hands slid over his chest and his fingers twisted into Viktor's shirt.

When Aleksander released Viktor, they stood breathless, staring at one another. Aleksander's eyes held a question - was this okay? - and Viktor lunged forward, kicking shut the door and as he pulled Aleksander into the room.

The music on the phonograph seemed in perfect time with them as their chests slammed together once more, Aleksander's hands pulling Viktor's hips into his own.

"I thought you would die," Aleksander muttered, "My heart did not know how to beat for the moments you faced that dragon."

Viktor's palms turned to pools, his blood flowing like electricity through his veins and throbbing in his pelvis as he gasped for air. Aleksander's fingers slid into Viktor's hair, mouth sweeping onto him, his tongue sliding between Viktor's lips, thrusting against his own, smooth and soft and hard all at once, deliciously overwhelming.

Viktor felt dizzy as Aleksander took control away from him, and Viktor realized just how alright he was with relinquishing it over. His back hit the wall so hard the photos hanging there rattled and his free hand searched for the top of the steamer trunk beside him, shoving off the stack of books he'd left there, and he fell backward over it, drawing Aleksander down on top of him.

Aleksander crashed down over him like a wave.

Viktor's head thrown back, Aleksander began kissing his neck, sucking gently on the skin, licking along his platysmal lines and around the bob of his adam's apple. Viktor let out a grunt as Aleksander's hands slid under his shirt, sliding across the plain of his abdomen, up and up to grab onto his pecs and Viktor's knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the trunk tightly.